


Given a Chance

by Fabby



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 4th of July antics, Anal Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Blow Jobs, Bottom Louis, Canon Compliant, Coming Back Together, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Future Fic, Liam and Zayn don't have any real role in this story and I don't apologize for it, M/M, Monica Geller should be tagged a main character, Not AU, Rimming, SO TRIGGER WARNING FOR THAT M8, Slow Burn, Small Town America, Smut, Top Harry, actual trigger warning for:, and because people actually care about this......, hopefully you're not impressionable like me, i promise there's enough fluff to balance it out, i swear i want a burger every fucking time i read this, it wouldn't be a fabby story without angst, learning to love each other again, lots of angst mixed with fluff, louis has an amazing dog named Reginald, niall is the best, nothing too major but they're there, obnoxious abbreviations, over-usage of the word "bro", self indulgent fic, seriously, slooooowww burn but I promise they get there!, too many friends references, way too many food references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-16 12:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 173,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabby/pseuds/Fabby
Summary: Five years after One Direction took their last tour, the last thing Louis Tomlinson ever expected to happen while on a tea run at the local Piggly Wiggly was to run into his ex-boyfriend and ex-bandmate Harry Styles.The odds of them ever running into each other again had to be super slim, right?Wrong.What happens when you mix ex-boyfriends with a large serving of Small Town America? Will Louis and Harry be able to set aside their differences, or will Louis be able to stay breezy as fuck in the wake of Harry’s arrival?(or, the one where Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.)





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> A few things: (This was supposed to be short, but who am I kidding.)
> 
>   * This is a _100% completed story_ (!!!!) that will be posted in twelve parts every Monday and Friday, totaling 170k words. I have learned my lesson with posting WIPs before (sorry to anybody that was around during My Cubicle Life days, you know what I’m talking about), so I have waited until I have completely finished the story before posting so there will be no hang-ups or delays! You’re welcome.
>   * This story takes place five years down the road in the year 2021. I started writing this fic one stormy day all the way back in July, 2016 (11 months ago _to the day_ ) and I can’t believe it’s finally finished. I’m so, _so_ excited to share this with you and I hope you enjoy it! I never thought it would take this long to finish, but I have gone through _so many emotions_ writing this and it’s basically my pride and joy. Some parts were so easy to write, and other scenes took me literally months to finish. Since July 2016, a whirlwind of things have happened: I moved out of a cramped one bedroom apartment into a house with my bestie, traveled Europe for an entire month, became a second-time auntie to beautiful twins babies, watched _all four boys_ release solo music (!!!!), missed the UK so much that I went back for another two weeks without getting fired from my job... etc. There was even a spontaneous road trip to the tiny town in NC that I roughly based this story off of to get re-inspired at one point. Life is weird. A lot has happened in the fandom since I’ve started the writing process, some very exciting and some incredibly sad, and while I have kept this as canon-compliant as possible… I have also left out a few details/scandals/rumors. It is what it is, right? That’s what happens when you take almost a year to finish a story. 
>   * The majority of this story takes place in a tiny **fictional** town in rural North Carolina, USA. I am very much American, born and raised, so please forgive me for any inconsistencies around British culture, language, or general knowledge about that part of the world. There is a pretty big mixture of British English and American English that changes often depending on where I think Louis’ mindset is at the time, or whichever seemed to be more appropriate (basically, I’m not a _complete_ idiot). On the same note, I tend to make fun of America a lot in this story, which I can get away with, because, again, I bleed red, white and blue. 
>   * DISCLAIMER: This is **very much fiction** and I do not own any characters referenced in this story. I mean no offense to any person(s) that is mentioned and characterized in this story. I am not affiliated with and do not own One Direction, Modest! Management, Syco, or any other business/enterprise related to the band. I’m just a small town girl, living in a lonely world of fanfiction. (...I also do not own Journey, or their hit song Don’t Stop Believing…) The only thing I own and take 100% ownership of is the writing itself. **Please do not translate, re-post or distribute my work without my written consent. I will cry.**
>   * As with everything I do in life, this story is dedicated to my other half and soulmate, Ducky. Thank you for proofing this entire beast of a story and teaching me so many thing along the way. Without you, I would have given up a long time ago and it would have been added to the long list of “Stories Kate Will Never Finish!”, next to so many of its fallen brethren. But now that this story is done, think of all the mems we have because of it. Like our mem day feast of potato salad. And the fact we know MAH BOY Michael Phelps’ wingspan. Oh, the things we’ve learned. Soooooo likeeeeeeeeeeeee, thanks queen! 
>   * Happy reading! 
> 


  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/ae137de756c30d2790a1e20853b4fdaf/tumblr_inline_orlem2ge571ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  


There were a lot of things about America that struck Louis as funny.

The reality TV shows and the whole culture around them, for one. Obviously Britain had their fair share of shows that were seemingly pointless, but clearly the Americans had one up on everybody. The Kardashians and all their spinoffs, that one about Swamp People; there was even one about storage units and people fighting over who gets to sell the crap they find in it.

The weekend Louis found _that_ show had been a dark time for him. It was also around that time he realized he should stay away from American TV altogether. (Spoiler alert: he didn’t.)

Also, the Fahrenheit system? Really? That was outright hilarious. And very, _very_ confusing. Louis still cringed every time he had to set his oven to bloody _four hundred and fifty_ degrees to make a pizza. The recipe should say: _Pre-heat the oven to Hell Fire, lads._

Anyway. As a true Englishman at heart, Louis could list hilarious Americanisms for days, especially after moving to bumfuck North Carolina after One Direction took their last tour. He didn’t move here permanently and England would always be his rightful home, but there was something about the charm of small town America that drew him in all those years ago.

But at the top of his ever-growing list (appropriately titled: “WTF M8?!” because yes, there is a shared Google Doc with Niall) one of his favorite things was a grocery store.

_Piggly Wiggly._

They honestly have a grocery store called _Piggly Wiggly_ and people say it seriously.

Without laughing.

It’s a real thing!

“Oh, honey, you out of sugga’ for that iced tea? _(#1 on WTF M8?!)_ I’ll stop by the Piggly Wiggly on my way back to the farm!” Alright -- maybe that was an exaggeration even on Louis’ part, or maybe he was becoming more American than he thought because people didn’t sound like that to him anymore. When he first moved here he expected everybody to sound like Honey Boo Boo, but as it turned out the accents weren’t as thick as he made them out to be. They still sounded ridiculous to Louis, but in the small town of Chance, North Carolina _he_ was the one with the strange accent.

But his point still stands!

There’s a grocery store called Piggly Wiggly and no matter how many times he says it out loud, he still chuckles to himself because it’s just _stupid._ So while iced tea may be number one on his shared _WTF M8?!_ list, the Piggly Wiggly is definitely up there for its namesake. That being said, the Piggly Wiggly had one thing that no Walmart or Kroger had.

Yorkshire Tea.

Good luck finding that in any other grocery store. 

It still makes him chuckle having to go to the _International_ aisle to get it, but he’d be damned to live in a place where he couldn’t get his hands on a proper cuppa. That’s how he found himself in the local Piggly Wiggly (the Pig Wig, as he’s grown to call it. Abbreviating things that didn’t need abbreviating had become a weird habit of his) late one Tuesday night.

The humidity outside was so strong that he found himself still fanning his sleeveless shirt out against his tacky skin, even in the air conditioned Pig Wig. It was the middle of June and already the heat was scorching outside--he would definitely need to grab some ice cream before leaving.

Strictly for the cooling benefits--it was a health concern!

Or at least that’s what he told himself as he tipped a box of Yorkshire from the shelf, then turned on his heels to head towards the frozen food section. He tossed the small box of tea in the air as he walked, catching it in his other hand before smiling charmingly at little old Betty Brownfield who worked the only open checkout lane this late at night.

“Ello, Mrs. B,” he greeted in passing, still on his way towards the frozen section.

Mrs. B smiled back at Louis, sticking her pencil into the loose grey bun on top of her head. “Evenin, Lou!” she called back. “Didja see those blueberries on sale? They sure look delicious!” Louis rolled his eyes while smirking at her; Mrs. B was always encouraging Louis to eat healthier every time she saw him. It wasn’t just him though--she pushed the fruit and veggies on all the locals here.

Louis chuckled quietly to himself as he rounded the frozen food, thinking about how crazy it was that he was considered a local here. While most people knew he was in “that one boy band!” a few years back, the name Louis Tomlinson didn’t mean anything special to the people here. He didn’t get any special treatment, nobody snapped sneaky pictures of him when he was walking around town, and he definitely wasn’t saved from the “Eat More Veggies!” treatment from Mrs. B.

Around here, everybody just knew him as Louis. The one with the British accent.

Five years ago, right after One Direction took their last tour, he was getting papped daily at grocery stores in LA. He was rich and famous and everybody wanted a piece of him. For some reason they cared which drink he got at Starbucks and what he was buying at The Commons every day. Now, he sauntered through a Piggly Wiggly at 11:30PM on a Tuesday, wearing baggy black athletic shorts and a white tank that had a mysterious brown stain on the front, and nobody looked at him twice.

Except to push some blueberries on him.

Times have definitely changed.

Louis came to a halt in front of the Ben & Jerry’s and eyed his choices for a moment through the fogged glass, before propping the door open on his hip and grabbing a pint of cookie dough. He turned on his heels, ready to head back towards Mrs. B, when he ran directly into the back of somebody. 

“Oops,” the person muttered, already turning around, but Louis was too busy having a breakdown to hear it. All the blood seemed to drain from his face and he visibly startled when the door behind him finally slammed shut.

There was no way…

There was just no fucking way!

Harry seemed just as shocked, because really-- _how was this happening?_ They both stood there blinking at each other for who knows how long. Time was no longer a concept and neither was reality because _how the fuck was this happening?!_ Louis’ heart pounded so hard in his chest that he actually raised a hand to it and pressed down hard on his sternum, feeling as though he might be going into cardiac arrest.

He forcibly swallowed, then swallowed again, his mind absolutely blank other than _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?_ He opened his mouth, probably to say something because _isn’t that what mouths are for?_ But the only thing that came out was a pathetic squeaking noise. Harry blinked at him and Louis blinked right back, his right hand still pressed down hard on his chest as his heart threatened to beat right out of it.

The last time Louis saw Harry in person was over two years ago, the last time all the lads were together. Niall, bless him, had convinced everybody (including Zayn) to come around to his house for dinner and drinks. Louis had spent that whole night avoiding everything Harry, because that’s what they did. They avoided each other.

They didn’t fight or say snarky things to each other, they simply... didn’t exist.

They had been in the same band, they toured together, they promo’d together, but what they absolutely _did not_ do was spend time alone together. At all. Ever. Even for just a few minutes. Louis can count the times he’s been alone with Harry since the day they broke up (Christ, almost eight years ago) and that number is two.

And both of them had lasted about thirty seconds before one of them ran out of the room.

There was a point in time when Harry was Louis’ whole world. All of the rumors, all of the fan speculations about Larry Stylinson, they were all true. But even that was putting it lightly because what they had together was more than that. It was more than exaggerated fan sightings and theories. They had loved each other so strongly and so fully, until one day they just… didn’t.

It was more complicated than that, sure, and Louis still felt as though a piece of his heart was missing even after all these years. But currently, he was standing in the chilly frozen food section, a box of Yorkshire and pint of cookie dough pinned to his aching chest by his sweaty palm, trying to remember how to form words.

Thinking about his relationship with Harry was the last thing he needed to do right now.

He coughed, partly to get his heart beating again and partly to see if his voice even worked, before he dumbly blurted out, “Hi.” Wait--did they just? Ugh, what the actual fuck was happening? This is why Louis had a strict Never Be Alone with Harry Styles policy. He slammed his mouth shut, letting his arms drop down to his sides, taking in the sight in front of him. 

Harry seemed… taller.

Which made no sense, because Harry was a full grown man two years ago, just like he was now. But looking up at him now, Harry seemed taller and just as shocked to see Louis. His hair was still cut short, which kind of surprised Louis because he figured once Harry had been done with his short-lived film career (hey, Louis used the internet just like everybody else did!), he would have grown it back out first thing.

But as it stands today, his hair was cut short and not styled at all at the moment. Louis let his eyes travel across the black tee that was spread across his chest, down to the typical black skinnies that seemed to be pasted onto his legs, before he snapped his eyes back up. He was very aware that he had to say something, because clearly Harry was set on just staring at him.

The problem was… he still couldn’t form words.

What the fuck was he supposed to say in this situation?

Finally, after what seemed like years, Louis laughed. It startled out of him and clearly took Harry by surprise as well, given the rapid blinking of his eyes and the expression on his face. There wasn’t anything to laugh about and nothing was funny, but for some reason a loud, unabashed laugh came out of Louis’ lungs. “Sorry!” he immediately apologized, clearing his throat. “It’s just-- I mean. What the fuck?” Louis laughed again before he realized it or could stop it.

Harry’s brows furrowed deeper and he readjusted the black Piggly Wiggly basket that was cradled against his elbow.

“Seriously.” Louis laughed again, his loud frantic laugh seeming to echo in the empty aisle, before bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth and try to stop himself. “It’s just, like. What are the fucking odds?” Louis asked, his eyes wide and panicked, another frantic chuckle coming out because _seriously what the fuck._

“Um,” Harry muttered.

“No, I’m actually asking. _What are the fucking odds?_ I wish I could calculate them. This is--I mean, you and me--the Pig Wig? Like, _what?”_ Louis was very aware that he wasn’t making sense, but who could blame him in this situation? He wasn’t even forming complete sentences, but he couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening.

The chances of running into anybody you know has got to be slim, right? Add in a foreign country, the odds are even less in your favor, Hunger Games be damned. Add in the Ex-Boyfriend factor, the Ex-Famous-Boybander factor, and-- oh, fuck it, let’s add in the X-Factor altogether-- _what are the fucking odds_ of them ever running into each other? 

At some point, Louis must have started thinking out loud, because Harry brought a hand up to rub awkwardly at his temple as he listened. “--Like, what the fuck are you even doing here?” Louis finally finished, his jaw wide open and staring expectantly at Harry.

“I…” Harry trailed off, his voice just as low and slow as Louis remembered. “Was going to get some ice cream?”

Louis shook his head, his eyes momentarily squeezing closed. “No, I mean, what are you doing here? In Chance? In--in bloody North Carolina, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you,” Harry replied slowly, raising an eyebrow at him and no. Just no.

“I live here,” Louis barked out, maybe a bit too defensively. “I’ve _lived_ here. Forever.”

“Forever?” Harry asked, his tone cheeky. And--what the fuck? There was no way they were going to banter back and forth like this was an acceptable thing to do. The fact they were alone together with no buffer was unacceptable! Louis should have stayed home tonight.

“You know what I mean.” Louis shook his head, huffing out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I’ve lived here for a while and. Just. _What are you doing here_?!” he asked, his voice taking that frantic tone again at the end.

Harry did nothing but blink at him, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he just kept blinking like an idiot. Okay, maybe Louis wasn’t the only one affected by this. But while Louis’ go-to in a crisis has always been _losing the ability to shut up,_ Harry had always been prone to go silent. The fact that Louis still knew that bothered him and caused him to push more.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?!” Louis blurted out. “Are you not realizing how fucking insane this is?”

“I realize.” Harry nodded slowly, his eyes looking anywhere but Louis. If he didn’t explain himself in the next ten seconds, Louis was likely to explode. Another strange whiny-squeaky noise came from Louis, again without his consent, and that seemed to bring Harry back to the present. “I, um, rented a cabin up past Bear Creek. The, um, well I’ve been doing some writing and”--Harry shrugged slightly--“I don’t know. The scenery?”

Louis has learned a few things from that.

One, Harry Styles still spoke slower than fucking molasses.

Two, he was definitely just as affected by running into Louis, given his broken sentences and jumbled words.

Three, fate was a fucking _cunt._

“Did you know I lived here?!” Louis asked, his tone still frantic and not hiding his stress level. 

“No,” Harry said flatly, “how would I even know that?”

“I’m not hiding,” Louis quickly replied, that same defensive tone sneaking back out. “It’s public knowledge that I live here. Well, maybe not _public_ knowledge, but I mean. The lads know. People we know, know. You could have easily heard it from someone.”

“Louis,” Harry chuckled, and Louis’ mouth instantly snapped shut again, realizing that was the first time he heard Harry say his name in God knows how long. “I didn’t know you lived here. I’m not, like, stalking you.” Louis narrowed his eyes anyway. “Why would I even do that?”

“I don’t know!” Louis threw his hands up, his head beginning to pound.

Louis had to get out of there. Re: his policy regarding being alone with Harry Styles. “This is just--” He cut himself off, his mouth flapping for words that didn’t come. “This is weird. This is too weird. This is--I’m leaving,” he finally said, holding his hands up towards Harry, who hadn’t moved an inch. Another frantic laugh came rolling out of his lungs as he shook his head. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, Louis.”

Okay, so he wasn’t going to stop him. Good. Yes. That’s exactly what Louis had wanted.

Right.

Louis quickly turned around and headed back towards the front of the store on shaky legs. His mind was racing, replaying the situation that had just happened over and over again--how the fuck did any of that just happen? Absolutely nothing about the past five minutes made a lick of sense. He numbly set his two items down on Mrs. B’s counter and was vaguely aware of her saying something to him, but the ringing in his ears was so loud he didn’t hear.

“What was that?” he asked, looking up at her for the first time since entering her line.

“I said, you didn’t want to get a tub of those blueberries? They’re a steal, I’m tellin’ ya!”

He forced out an awkward chuckle, “Um. No. I mean, no thank you. I--this.” He ended up helplessly shrugging at his items and her smile quickly turned into a frown.

“Are you okay, darlin’?”

“Yes.” He nodded, but quickly shook his head instead. “No?”

“What happened, honey? Are you sick? You look pale,” she said, concern clearly spreading across her wrinkled face as she scanned his two items into the register. Louis thought about her question--did something happen? Yeah, his past just drop kicked him in the frozen food section, but no big deal or anything. 

“No--yeah. I’m okay, sorry,” he laughed, reaching into his pocket to take out his wallet. He needed to talk to somebody who knew how fucked up everything that just happened was, he didn’t need to burden the sweet old lady who worked at the Pig Wig. She clearly didn’t believe him but she nodded all the same, smiling sweetly at him as he quickly swiped his card through the machine and waited for his receipt to pop out.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Mrs B. asked, handing the white plastic bag over to him along with his receipt.

“Of course.” He flashed her a charming smile, no matter how fake and forced it was. “Just had a mo’ back there. Have a good night!” he said, quickly gathering up his belongings and darting towards the exit. As soon as he got outside, back into the heat and humidity, he stopped and closed his eyes tightly, letting his head fall back on his shoulders.

He breathed in deep, Harry flashing through his mind, listening to the crickets chirping loudly all around him and the buzz of the Piggly Wiggly sign on the storefront above him. No matter how many years passed or how many miles he thought he put between them, somehow Harry Styles would always be a part of his life.

Fuck.  
  


***

  


It took him longer than it should have to get home.

The drive from the Pig Wig back to his house didn’t even involve any traffic lights.

In fact, there were only five traffic lights in the whole town of Chance, none of which were on the tiny road that led back to his house. It should have only taken ten minutes, but he had ended up sitting in his car willing his hands to stop shaking for a good five minutes before leaving. (And only then because he had the horrific thought of seeing Harry again in the parking lot.)

His house was a small thing, much smaller than his home back in London that he had once shared with Harry (any remaining questions as to why he moved to fucking North Carolina?) but it had become his favorite place in the world. Other than his mum’s home, maybe, but that would never be the same either.

His small one-story house with brown siding and a wraparound porch sat towards the back of a very small neighborhood. He had a few neighbors, all of which he knew by name because that’s what this town was about, but his yard was still big enough and had enough trees to give him some semblance of privacy.

The road he lived off of was nothing but gravel and dirt. Of course the main roads were paved--because it was small town America, not The Hills Have Eyes--but the gravel road he lived off of eventually would dead-end into a corn field if you didn’t turn into one of the driveways. His driveway, for example, was marked by a cute blue mailbox that said “Tomlinson” across it in bold black letters, because he wasn’t one to do things by halves.

If he was going to live in small town America, he was going to play the fucking part. 

He had even gone out and got himself a dog right after moving here.

Step one, buy a house. Step two, get a fucking dog.

Getting a dog before had never been an option. What was he supposed to do, take the thing on tour? The only option would have been to leave it with family while he was away, which is what Liam had done with his two dogs, but his family would have never heard of it.

Whatever.

So his first night here in Chance, he had driven down to the animal shelter and asked the workers which dog had been there the longest. He was instantly shown to the end of the hallway where an old, fat, yellow lab named Reginald laid curled up in the corner.

Louis’ heart had melted at the sight of the fat dog, who had raised his head just long enough to give Louis a bored expression that read, “Excuse you, I was sleeping” before curling back up for another nap. He was perfect and everything Louis needed. He wasn’t able to take Reggie home that night, which, _What the hell? If you don’t want him but I do, why don't you just give him to me?_ But apparently there were rules and regulations to follow.

So a week and a stack of paperwork later, Louis had loaded Reggie’s fat self into the back of his Range Rover (or “The Rove” as Louis referred to it as, since everything and anything could be abbreviated), and made the drive back home with the windows down, talking excitedly to him. Reggie was seven in human years at the time and Louis hadn’t known what to expect, but he squealed with delight when Reggie stuck his fat head out of the back window and panted into the breeze.

It was love at first sight, really.

But, when Louis finally stumbled into his house after the tragic events of the evening, he finds Reggie sprawled out on his overstuffed dog pillow in the living room, looking up at him with that knowing look, like: “Yeah, bro, you’re fucked.” He didn’t even give Louis the common dog courtesy of greeting him at the door.

Louis must reek of tragedy.

Louis stared at Reggie and made eye contact, Louis’ eyes still full of panic, before Reggie finally laid his head back down to go back to sleep. Seriously, no help at all, this one. Louis sighed loudly, walking past the now sleeping dog and into the kitchen. He set the ice cream in the freezer and dropped the tea on the kitchen table before heading straight for the beer.

He grabbed one of the cold brown bottles before making his way through the back door and onto the porch. He popped the top off his bottle on the railing, then dug his phone out from his pocket. For some reason, he expected to see something from Harry and is relieved when there’s nothing. It’s completely irrational anyway because does Louis even have Harry’s number anymore?

There’s a contact saved in his phone (“Harry.” No cute name, no emojis, nothing but facts) but he doubts that’s even Harry’s current phone number. Lord knows they’ve all had to change their numbers quite a few times over the years. And, besides, what the hell else could Harry possibly want with Louis?

Louis shook himself from his thoughts and pulled up Niall’s contact ( _definitely_ his current number, thank you very much) and mashed the call button a few more times than is necessary before he pinned the phone to his ear.

He thumped down onto the steps leading to his backyard, bracing his forehead against his hand as he listened to it ring and ring. Just as he was about to give up on Niall answering and prepare himself to leave an embarrassing voicemail, the line clicked on and Niall’s scratchy sleep-ridden voice sounded in his ear. “Maaaaaate. Time difference. Time fucking difference.” And--oh shit. Louis pulled the phone away from his ear to check the time and winced when he realized it was just past 5AM in London.

“Fuck time differences, Neil. This is serious!” Louis said quickly, pressing the phone back to his ear and taking a long swig of his beer.

“Someone better be dead,” Niall mumbled, and Louis could hear rustling as Niall presumably got out of bed. The line got muffled, Niall having taken the phone away from his face, but Louis could still hear him when he said, _“No, it’s just Louis, go back to sleep”_ to whom Louis could only assume was his girlfriend, Lily.

Louis glared down at his feet. “Just Louis? I reckon I’m a little more important than _just Louis.”_

“Not at fuck o’clock in the mornin’, you aren’t,” Niall laughed, Louis still able to hear his movements in the background. Louis huffed, but waited until Niall had clearly settled somewhere else in the house before he had his meltdown. “Okay,” Niall said, as if he knew what Louis was waiting for. “Go on.”

“Fucking _Harry Styles.”_

There was silence on the other end and, okay, maybe even Niall didn’t see that one coming. Because Louis never talked about Harry. He never asked about Harry, never mentioned Harry, he even specifically left Harry out of stories whenever they’re going down memory lane _(mem lane),_ even if Harry were a part of whatever they were talking about.

He was basically Voldemort.

“Harry Styles,” Niall repeated, his tone confused. 

“Did you tell him I live here? You did, didn’t you?” Louis demanded, picking at the label of his beer.

“I--what? I don’t know,” Niall said, confusion clear in his voice. “I don’t think so? But, maybe? Not recently,” Niall continued, thinking aloud as he tried to put the pieces together. “We don’t talk about-- _what are you even on about?”_

“Fucking Harry Styles!” Louis yelled and, yeah, his voice definitely traveled out here in the sticks. He took a deep breath in, trying to calm himself and his rapidly beating heart down. He knew he needed to give Niall more than that, but, like, he still hadn’t processed anything on his own yet! The cricket’s chirping seem to stop, as if Louis has disturbed even them. “There I am, grabbin’ a thing of cookie dough ice cream from the Pig Wig and _boom!_ Harry fucking Styles! Right there! Just--there!” 

“You’re kidding!” Niall cackled.

They are no longer friends.

“Niall!” Louis whined, bringing his beer back up to his lips and draining half the bottle. “How the fuck does that happen?” he asked, setting the beer down with a quiet clink onto the wooden steps next to him.

“What’d you do?”

“What do you think?!” Louis exclaimed, and--oh, right, his voice. He quieted down a bit. “I panicked!”

“You didn’t, like… throat punch him, did you? Like when somebody scares somebody else and their first reaction is to brain the other person?”

“No, I didn’t punch him,” Louis said flatly, rolling his eyes even though nobody was around to see it. “I just--God, I don’t even know. We just stared at each other for a long time and then I went off on this rant about the odds of us ever running into each other anywhere and how I could calculate them. Then I bolted.”

“What?!” Niall laughed loudly. 

“Think about it!” Louis declared. “Seriously, think about it! I’m in _North Carolina_ in this tiny town and the odds of me ever running into Harry has to be, like, point zero zero zero zero zero zero--”

“I get it.”

“--zero zero zero _zero_ one percent. Like, what the fuck? _What the actual fuck?!”_ Louis repeated for probably the hundredth time tonight.

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. S’pretty crazy,” Niall mused, chuckling again.

“I don’t think you’re getting it!” Louis said, that frantic tone coming back out. “Like _really_ getting it! Somebody must have told him I was here because there’s just no way this happens in real life. There’s just no way, Niall!”

“But even if he knew you were there, why would he…” Niall trailed off, letting the sentence finish itself. Louis sighed loudly because he knew Niall was right. Even if someone did tell Harry, the last place he would ever come is _here._ Because they weren’t friends. They weren’t even acquaintances. They didn’t exist at all to each other. And no matter how dramatic Louis knew that was, he also knew that it was mutual. 

This wasn’t just a _Louis_ thing.

He and Harry were not anything to each other except fucked up memories. 

Louis picked up his beer and took another sip. “So what do I do?”

“Uhhhhh…” Niall trailed off. “Nothing?”

Louis spluttered around the beer bottle, pulling it away and coughing. “What do you mean, nothing?!”

“Well,” Niall chuckled, “it’s over, yeah? It’s not like you guys live together.”

“I don’t think you realize how fucking small this town is.” Louis glared back down at his feet. Maybe he should have FaceTimed Niall so he could glare at him instead. “If I ran into him once, I’m going to run into him again.”

“Why? Did he move there?”

“He said,” Louis groaned, as if it physically pained him to recall what happened just twenty minutes ago, “that he rented a cabin here because of the fucking scenery.”

“Typical Haz,” Niall laughed.

“He’s apparently doing some writing or some shit, and for some fucking reason out of all the places on God’s green earth, he picked my town to do it in. Which, really, what are the fucking odds--”

“Please don’t go into the odds again,” Niall said, cracking up because everything was funny to Niall.

“I just don’t get why it has to be _my_ town,” Louis whined, knowing that he sounded like a child but damn it, he deserves this one. “I moved so far away from everything and, like. This is _my_ town! Mine! Not his, mine! He can have LA. He can have London. He can have all of fucking Europe for all I care, but this is mine!”

“I know,” Niall sighed, because he was the best and really does understand what this meant to Louis.

For probably the thousandth time, Louis is glad that he and Niall never lost touch. Louis loves Liam and tried really hard to stay in touch with him, but they weren’t as close as he and Niall still were. Louis even talked to Zayn every now and again, even though it took a few years for both of them to get over whatever came between them, but it doesn’t compare.

Moving to America was a clear “That Part of My Life Is Over!” towards everything One Direction related, but his friendship with Niall only grew stronger. Even though they now lived on different continents and had a pesky five hour time difference. Louis didn’t intentionally cut out anybody from his life (excluding Harry), but it had been five years. The crowd he surrounded himself with had changed, not only because of distance but because… it had been five years.

Everybody’s grown up and grown apart. 

Most have gotten married, or at least gotten into a serious relationship, and that meant a different group of friends. It was just what happened in life and Louis refused to be sad about it. If he had to choose a best friend in this world though, it would definitely be Niall. Distance be damned.

“At least he _rented_ a cabin and didn’t, like, buy a McMansion in the woods. That means he’ll be leaving one day… right?” Niall asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“I guess.” Louis sighed, setting his beer bottle down again and then running his fingers through his messy fringe, his phone pinned in between his shoulder and ear. “I just really can’t believe this happened. And of all days--” Louis had to laugh. “I look like a fuckin’ bum. There’s even a stain on my shirt,” he said, his eyes going a little wide at the realization.

“Ah, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Niall cackled. “I’m sure yer bum is still as big as ever.”

“Piss off,” Louis said, though there was no heat behind it. “He looked…” Louis trailed off, the image of Harry standing in the frozen food section popping back through his brain. “Yeah. He looked… I don’t even know.”

“I saw him ‘bout a month ago,” Niall said casually, which shouldn’t be a shock to Louis but it somehow still was--they were still friends, after all.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“Of course not,” Niall laughed. “Can you imagine how that woulda gone? You woulda torn me head off!” It’s not that Louis didn’t want Harry and Niall to be friends--he knew they were--he just didn’t want to hear about it. Or, he used to not want to hear about it. Louis shook his head, not knowing if he wanted to hear about it or not anymore. 

“True.” Louis smirked, wrapping his arms around his bent legs and pressing the phone harder into his shoulder. “What did you lot do?”

“Just went to a pub for pints and whatever. It was nice. He seemed happy.”

“Great.” Louis rolled his eyes. The crickets started chirping again. “Didn’t seem too happy tonight. Maybe seeing me will scare him out of town.”

“Maybe.”

The two of them talked for a little while longer, Niall probably making sure that Louis wasn’t on the edge of a breakdown before he reminded Louis that it was still before sunrise and he was going the fuck back to sleep. Louis stayed outside for a while afterwards, listening to the chirping and draining the rest of his beer, sweat starting to form on his brow even though it was the middle of the night.

Fucking Carolina summers.

Fucking Harry Styles.  
  


* * *

  
  
Life went back to normal after that fateful Tuesday. Louis didn’t run into Harry again (because really. The fucking odds, man) and after a while, his brain started to block the whole occasion out as just as a really weird thing that happened to him. He used to be a bloody pop star, stranger things have surely happened than running into an ex at the Pig Wig.

Okay, no, it was still strange.

Regardless, Louis’ life seemed to go back to normal. His version of normal, at least, which was being the assistant coach for the local kid’s “soccer” team. (Soccer. #2 on WTF M8?!) Taking Reggie on walks through the neighborhood. Having a drink at the local watering hole with a few mates on a Friday night. Yes, life was returning to the simplicity that Louis has strived for and he had almost forgotten all about Harry Styles.

Until, you know, that ugly bitch fate decided to stir things up again.

This time it was an early Saturday morning towards the end of June at the local diner, which everybody referred to simply as Keith’s. He was sitting at the counter, as he always did on Saturday mornings, scrolling through his Twitter feed when he heard somebody sit down right beside him. Without thinking too much of it, he glanced over and then quickly did a double take when he realized it was _fucking Harry Styles._

“You’re kidding,” Louis stated dumbly, his thumb hovering over his phone as his jaw dropped.

“Howdy.” Harry smirked, that same stupid half smirk he’s always done. He had used some terrible form of a southern accent and even went to tip his hat that didn’t exist. And just-- _no!_ This wasn’t happening again!

“What are you--why are you--fuck me.” Louis shook his head, setting his phone down on the grey countertop and angling his body towards Harry. “You can’t be here.”

“The sign says open,” Harry said, pointing his thumb towards the front door, still smirking at Louis.

“No! You can’t be _here._ In this town! This is my town, Harry. You have no business here.”

Harry’s smirk slowly disappeared and if Louis didn’t know any better, he’d say the expression that replaced it was one of hurt. But there was no way that was the case, because Harry should know better. He should have left the moment he realized this was Louis’ town. The fact that he was still here makes _him_ the one in the wrong. He had to know that!

“I didn’t know you were here,” Harry finally said, then waved his hand around and clarified, “in this diner, I mean.”

“But you knew I was in this town. _My_ town.”

Harry seemed to weigh it over in his head for a second, his head shifting back and forth twice before he nodded. “Yeah, technically.”

“Technically?!”

“After running into you at the grocery store,” he stated, rather dumbly since yeah. Louis was there. “But I mean, that was weeks ago and we haven’t run into each other again.”

“Until now.”

“Yeah.” 

Louis blinked at him, feeling like he must be missing something. This wasn’t his life. He didn’t have conversations with Harry that weren’t being recorded for an interview or around a conference table. And, more than that, he didn’t have _those_ conversations anymore because he was _retired._ They were all retired. He should have never had another conversation with Harry ever again. Yet here he was, just innocently waiting on his pancakes, and now he was somehow having a conversation with him.

“Why are you doing this?” Louis asked, hating that his voice cracked on the last word. Harry Styles did weird things to his psyche.

“I--didn’t expect to run into you, like I said, but, um. After the grocery store, I told myself that if I _did_ run into you again that I would at least try to. You know.”

“No. I don’t know,” Louis said, shaking his head.

Harry shrugged slowly. “Talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Harry said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Just then, the redheaded waitress, Jenny, who was very, _very_ pregnant, came up to the counter. “Mornin’,” she said, smiling brightly at Harry as she set a menu down in front of him. “I’m Jenny. Can I start you with something to drink, honey?”

“Coffee, please.”

“Sure thing.” She nodded, grabbing one of the ugly brown mugs from underneath the counter and setting it in front of Harry, on top of the paper placemat that read _Keith’s_ in tacky pink cursive. Louis watched, speechless, as Jenny poured Harry’s coffee and set a bowl of creamers down next to it before trailing back towards her other customers.

Silently, Harry picked up one of the plastic containers of cream and dumped it into his mug. Louis had literally nothing to say and felt as though it was completely up to Harry to say anything, since he was the one so determined for them to talk, but the tension between the two of them was anything but easy. Louis watched with narrowed eyes as Harry took a sip from his mug before setting it back down.

What the fuck was life?

Harry wordlessly picked up the menu and flipped it open, bringing his fingers up to pinch at his bottom lip as he studied over the different pictures. The longer the silence went on between them, the angrier Louis got. The harder he stared. Why wasn’t Harry saying anything?! How was this happening? The silence continued to stretch on, even after Jenny made her way back over and took Harry’s order.

“Two eggs and wheat toast, please,” he said, smiling brightly at her. “Congratulations, by the way,” he continued, nodding at her very pregnant belly. Seriously, she was about to pop. Louis thought she had reached full term about a month ago, but here she was, still serving them greasy diner food.

“Aw, thanks, sugar,” Jenny replied, the term of endearment coming out easily in her southern drawl. 

“Do you know what you’re having?” Harry asked, because he’d always been baby obsessed.

“I sure don’t!” Jenny laughed. “One of life’s only true surprises.”

“Good on you.” Harry nodded, smiling brightly at her.

“Your order will be up in no time, darlin’,” she said, gathering up Harry’s menu and stuffing it back under the counter.

“Thank you.” Harry smiled back at her, then finally turned back towards Louis, startling a little at the way Louis was still staring at him, his jaw now open wider than it had been before. “Jesus,” Harry said, then laughed awkwardly, “are you okay?”

 _“What the fuck are you doing here?”_ Louis exclaimed, his arms flailing and apparently having lost all sense of self control now. 

“I told you,” Harry said, shrugging casually as he took another sip of his coffee. “I’m doing some writing.”

“Are you purposely being a tit?” Louis shot back. “You’re trying to piss me off, right?”

“No, Louis, I’m not trying to piss anyone off. I told you I would try to talk to you. This is me trying.”

“No, this is you driving me absolutely _nutters,”_ Louis said, pointing an angry finger at him. “We don’t talk, Harry. We don’t do this,” he said, waving his finger back and forth between them. “I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, but it’s not going to work. So just--just don’t!”

“Okay,” Harry said, simple as ever. He picked up his mug and took another sip of his coffee, then pulled out his phone and swiped it unlocked. Louis continued to stare, watching as Harry scrolled through his phone and bit his bottom lip back into his stupid mouth. Louis felt like he must be on some hidden camera show. Clearly one of the lads put him up to this as a twisted joke.

Louis even went as far as to look around the diner, looking for anything out of the ordinary, any hidden cameras, any TV host waiting to pop out. “Surprise! You’re on TMZ again!” Louis could already see the headlines now: Boyband Showdown in Podunk Town, Caught on tape! Click the link for more details! Louis shook his head of his thoughts, turning back towards Harry and staring at him.

“Why are you looking at me?” Harry asked, without looking up from his phone.

“Because--” but Louis didn’t know why. So he turned on his stool and stared blankly ahead. His heart was still beating rapidly in his chest, that vague cardiac arrest feeling from the Pig Wig starting back up again. The world seemed to be upside down because this wasn’t how things worked between him and Harry.

When they had finally broken things off for good, they were in the middle of their Take Me Home tour. They couldn’t get away from each other, had to sing on stage together every night, spend each day with each other, and still they never spoke. They never fought. They never yelled. How was it possible that they made it through that tour, plus _two more tours after that_ , and yet somehow, in this tiny North Carolina town, they were--whatever this was?

Sitting next to each other. Talking. Not talking, but not… _not_ talking.

Louis was so confused. 

He unlocked his phone and quickly pulled up a text to Niall.

_He’s sitting next to me!?!?!?!?!??????_ 
_Right now_ 
_IN A FUCKIN DINER_ 


Louis stared hard at his phone, waiting for the dots to appear to show Niall was responding, but after five more seconds Louis was already typing out more frantic texts.

_HE COMES IN HERE AND JSUT SITS NEXT TO ME AND EXPECTS ME T TALK????!?_ 
_HE SAID HE WANTS TO TALK_ 
_NOBODY IS SAYING ANYTHING_ 
_NIALL_ 
_BRO I NEED U TO RESPOND_ 


Okay, so Louis wasn’t really giving Niall a chance to respond, but at the same time if he stopped sending text after text, he’d have to go back to dealing with the fact that Harry Styles was sitting next to him. So he continued to spam Niall’s phone, hoping desperately to get his attention and respond so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the Harry situation.

The diner around him was carrying on as usual. There was some cheesy song coming out of the speakers that were haphazardly nailed to the walls, conversation flowing from surrounding tables, the sound of dishes clanking together from somewhere else. But all Louis could hear was the blood rushing through his ears, which--yeah, they were definitely getting hotter by the second.

Louis pulled the back of his hand up to his face and pressed his cheek into it. Fuck, was he flushed? He felt like it was a thousand degrees in here. He pulled at the neck of his tee, fanning the fabric away from his chest and hoping that Niall’s response would come any second.

“So, can I ask you something?” Harry’s stupid voice said over the roaring in his ears. Louis let go of his shirt and slowly turned to look at Harry, who was already staring back at him with those stupid green eyes. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to say no, _No, we don’t ask each other questions, Harry!_ but no matter how hard he tried, nothing seemed to come out. “When did you move here?”

“Why are--” Louis cut himself off, realizing that it was probably just easier to answer the fucking question than to go on another rant about _why are you even here?!_ He licked his bottom lip once before finally rushing out, “About two years ago.”

Harry whistled. “Wow. I--yeah, I didn’t know that. You like it here?”

Louis just stared at him. At his stupid navy and white polka dot shirt that was unbuttoned and fanned out around his hips, the material silky and expensive, and the plain white tank underneath clinging tightly to his chest. What even was this shirt? Nobody dressed like that in this town. Maybe it was a little tame for Harry Styles, considering some of the get ups he used to wear, but this was _Chance_ and most people wore Faded Glory tees and cut off jorts.

He looked ridiculous.

He looked hot.

Fuck. No. That’s definitely not right. Harry Styles was fucking with Louis’ head. The silence stretched on between them for so long that Harry must have decided Louis wasn’t going to answer his last question, because he slowly turned his attention back to his phone.

“Pancakes and bacon,” Jenny said, startling Louis as he turned towards her, watching as she set his plate down in front of him. “Extra crispy, just the way you like it, Lou.” She smiled sweetly at him, looking between the two of them. “Y’all from the same town then?” she asked, pointing between himself and Harry.

Right. Their accents were a dead giveaway in this place.

“No.” Louis shook his head, probably coming off way more rudely than Jenny deserved. He’d have to remember to tip her well. (Not that he ever didn’t. If there was one thing he learned from his pop star days, it’s that if you have the money to tip well, you always should. But she’d probably get extra today.)

“Wait a minute,” she said, her southern twang coming out stronger than before. “You’re Harry Styles! Y’all were in One Direction together!”

“Guilty as charged,” Harry said, and even without looking over Louis could hear the smirk in his voice. “Lovely to meet you.”

“Man, what a day!” Jenny clucked. “We’ve gotten so used to our lil’ pop star over here that we forget he has famous friends!”

“Hey,” Louis said, finally looking up at her with a pout. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I could never!” She winked, then smiled over at Harry, who laughed loudly along with her. This was not cool. “It’s hard to even fathom that at one point, millions of girls were throwin’ their panties at ol’ LouLou over here, ain’t that right, baby?” she said, reaching over and pinching Louis’ arm. He glared harder at her. Harry seemed to laugh louder.

“This is bullshit,” Louis said, his tone flat but he couldn’t help but smile at Jenny. “He was _way_ more famous than I ever was,” he said, nodding over at Harry but refusing to look at him, because they aren’t _there._ He had a right to banter with Jenny, who had lovingly served him breakfast for the past two years, but fuck you, Harry Styles.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Lou,” Harry said, and even though Louis knew he was saying it for Jenny’s benefit, it still made a shiver go up his spine. Fuck. He needed to get away from Harry before his body completely betrayed him.

“So, how long you in town for, Harry?” Jenny asked, clearly making herself cozy in their little trio. Louis took in a deep breath and then unwrapped his silverware from the paper napkin it had been tucked in. He bitterly cut a bite of his breakfast and shoved it in his mouth, only glancing over at Harry once he knew he was wrapped up in a conversation with the redheaded waitress, who may or may not have been on Louis’ shit-list now.

“Indefinitely” was Harry’s pretentious response, and, _of course it was._ “I can see why Louis likes it here so much. You’ve got a really pretty town. I love the vibe it has.” What the fuck was he even saying? The vibe? Chance didn’t have a _vibe._ Only hipster towns had vibes, and this definitely wasn’t a place for hipsters.

Louis took another angry stab at his pancakes.

“Have you lived here long?” Harry asked, because of course he was the most polite person on earth. Still.

“Born and raised, me,” Jenny replied easily. “Can’t dream of bein’ from anywhere else in the world.”

“Mmm, well, you’ll have to visit England one day. I’m sure we could give you the royal treatment, eh, Lou?” And, no, absolutely not. Louis refused to be dragged back into this horrid conversation. He merely hummed a response and took another large bite of pancakes, even though he hadn’t finished chewing the last one.

“I’d love to!” Jenny laughed. “I’d have to go get me one of those passports first!”

“Deal!” Harry said, laughing along with her and seriously, fuck him for being so personable with everybody. This was Louis’ town! Who gave him the right to come in here and be all charming and shit? Louis refused to let this town go to the dogs, per se, just because Harry Styles decided to waltz back into his life. 

From the other side of the diner, one of the patrons called out, “Aye, Jenny, can I get another sweet tea?”

“Oops, gotta go!” she whispered, as if it was a conspiracy, before pregnant-waddling off towards the other side of the diner. Great, that means he was alone with Harry again.

“Nice girl,” Harry said, _as if they had casual conversations!!!!_

“Yup,” Louis replied, around a mouthful of pancakes, hating everything that was his life now. Also, why hadn’t Niall responded to him? He was going to get a complex soon. They sat in silence for the next few minutes and Louis couldn’t help but replay the conversation he had heard. Harry said he was staying here indefinitely--what the fuck? So this was going to be a thing now?

Would Louis have to find somewhere else to have Saturday morning breakfasts? Because he had become quite fond of the overly sweet, stick to your gut American pancakes and side of bacon that were served up to him with a smile every Saturday morning, all for the low price of $4.99.

“I’m not finding another diner,” Louis said when he couldn’t take his thoughts any longer. He looked accusingly over at Harry and pointed his fork at him. “Keith’s is mine. I found it first.”

“Oookay,” Harry said, slow as usual, most likely confused by Louis’ outburst. But he shouldn’t be. Because this was Louis’ fucking town and Harry was ruining everything.

“I mean it. Find somewhere else.”

“Louis--”

“You can live in my town and shop at my Piggly Wiggly, but I swear to God, Harry. You can’t take this place from me.”

Harry had been smiling before, that same stupid smirk, but he seemed to realize just how serious Louis was being. Louis watched as the smile faded and was replaced with that same hurt expression as before. “I’m not gonna take your diner from you, Lou. I’m… not trying to take anything from you. Not your town, not your diner. I just--I thought that, since we’re both here… we could--”

“Well, we can’t,” Louis cut him off, because he wasn’t going to listen to this. He wasn’t going to feel bad for Harry. Not now, not ever. Especially when it came to this town--his home that he had found when nothing else in the world made sense. When his mum died and everything at home smelled like her. When his solo career never took off. When he realized he was well and truly alone--the love of his life having up and left years ago. This was his place that had healed him. He deserved to be selfish about this.

“Louis, look--” Harry started, but Louis quickly cut him off again.

“No, Harry. I’m not gonna do this.” Louis stood up suddenly, reaching into his wallet for a twenty before tossing it down on the counter. “And I’m not sure why you are even _trying_ to do this. You and me”--he nodded between them as he folded back up his wallet--“we don’t work. We’re not friends, we haven’t ever been friends. We’re nothing. Plain and simple.”

Harsh, maybe. But it was the truth because they weren’t ever friends. They were very much more than friends for their entire relationship--and once that had ended, they became… this. Whatever it was that they were. Or had been, before Harry had shown up and turned his world upside down. Louis finally chanced a glance at Harry and found him staring down at the counter in front of him.

Louis took a deep breath in through his nose. “Please find another diner.”

“Okay,” Harry whispered.

Louis steeled himself. “Thanks.”

Harry hummed a response without looking up, without looking at anything, and Louis quickly turned on his heels. He headed towards the door, the bells hanging above them chiming as he opened it, and he paused to say goodbye to Jenny before stepping out into the horrible heat. The air was harder to breathe in than the chilly air conditioned diner had been, but maybe that was just the conversation replaying in his head that was weighing him down as he walked numbly towards his car.

Fucking Harry Styles.  
  


* * *

  
  
“What’s got you so tweaked, bro?” Jamie, one of the local high schoolers that also volunteers to help with the children’s soccer team, asked after practice was done that following Monday afternoon. Louis paused from where he was gathering up all the footballs--soccer balls (fucking America) and turned to look at Jamie. At seventeen, Jamie was easily the most popular boy in school, but he was a good kid from a good family and never let the attention get to his head. He often stuck around after practice to help Louis gather everything or talk about sports together.

Sometimes Louis thought everybody legitimately forgot he was once a famous pop star, and he _really_ loved that. He fucking loved North Carolina because where else in the world could he, Louis Tomlinson from One Direction, have been able to just blend in so easily? Even with his sharp Donny accent, he loved the fact that the people of Chance have _always_ given him a chance.

Which is why he chose this town based off the name alone two years ago. He knew it was cheesy and he’d never admit it to literally anybody in the world, not even Niall, but when he was googling small towns across America back before he moved and came across one named Chance, he had thought, _Yes. I need a chance._

Louis smiled over at Jamie. “Not tweaked, _bro,”_ he said, tacking on his ever-improving American accent at the end.

“Fuck off,” Jamie laughed, kicking one of the soccer balls towards Louis so he could add it to his mesh bag. “You’ve had that suckin’-on-a-lemon face all day. What’s up?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you these questions? I’m the adult here. Don’t worry about me.” Louis forced a laugh, kicking the ball up in the air so he could catch it with his hands and add it to his bag.

“Nahhhh, you know we got your back, Mr. T.”

“Fuck’s sake, you make me feel so old when you call me that.”

“Sorry, _Louee.”_

“That’s better.”

They were silent for a few minutes while Louis finished cleaning up and swung the mesh bag of balls over his shoulder. They headed towards the parking lot in silence, before Jamie broke it again. “But you sure you’re good, man?”

“Yeah. Just ran into an old…” Friend? Ex? Harry Styles, you’ve probably heard of him? How could he even word it at this point? “Somebody. Wasn’t expecting to see them here and it seems like they aren’t going away. So. Yeah, I guess I’ve had better weekends.”

“Old girlfriend?” Jamie asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Louis. “You dirty dog.”

“Not quite,” Louis laughed, shoving Jamie’s shoulder as they walked.

“Well, don’t let ‘em throw you, Mr. T. Give ‘em hell if they’re treading on your turf.”

“Honestly, what are you even on about?” Louis laughed. “I swear you need subtitles.”

“Sorry, perhaps that Queen would have said it more elegantly, your highness,” he said, falling into the overly-posh accent that all American’s got when trying to imitate him. Louis rolled his eyes, letting the bag of soccer balls smack into Jamie’s back as he moved to throw them in the back of his Rove.

“Go do your homework or something,” Louis said, though he grinned all the same.

“It’s summer,” Jamie replied flatly.

“Oh, whatever,” Louis mused, shaking his head and opening the door to his car.

Jamie saluted him. “Pip pip! Cheerio!” he cheered, bringing back that awful posh accent before jogging off towards his car, laughing loudly to himself.

Fucking Americans.

Louis turned on the car and cranked up the air con before settling back in the driver seat, wiggling his phone out of his pocket and sliding it unlocked. He had finally convinced Niall to come out and visit him, which he had only been asking for for two years now, and he was planning on sending Niall a text asking if he had booked his flight yet, only to find there was already a text waiting for him.

**Tickets to Middle Of Nowhere, NC: booked. See you friday, bitch.** 


Things were finally looking up.

Louis had seen Niall just a few months ago when he was back in England to visit the family, but knowing that he’d be here with him now, when everything was threatening to go to shit, made Louis instantly relax a bit. He knew it was out of the way for Niall, since being out of the way was Louis’ attraction to this place, so he quickly sent back a grateful reply.

_YOU ARE THE BEST_ 
_THEEEE BEEESTTTT NIALL_ 
_I’ll totally give you a blowie for your time_ 


Louis grinned at the screen, watching as the typing bubble instantly appeared, knowing that a good dick sucking joke between friends never failed to brighten his day.

**STAY AWAY FROM MY DICK, TOMLINSON!** 
_You wound me._ 


Louis chuckled to himself, then:

_A mouth is a mouth in the dark, amiright?!_ 
**Filthy!!!** 


Yes. Things were going to be okay after all.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you thought =) See you Friday! 
> 
> If you like this story, please share the Tumblr post [here](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)! Or, come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D) @Fabby_1D


	2. Part Two

[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/ffe9d35b1d40c2f99148ac2cca179c93/tumblr_inline_osfwvmlAVe1ri31al_540.jpg)  


  


Things were definitely _not_ okay.

Niall’s flight had gotten delayed by a few hours, which really threw off Louis’ whole plan for that evening. He had thought they’d grab a bite to eat on their way back from the airport, but now it was too late and Louis was starving. So after letting Reggie out in the backyard to do his business, Louis patted him on the head and told him he’d be back before he headed off to The Old Wagon, which served the best burgers in all of North Carolina. 

Or, at least Louis thought so. 

The restaurant, like every other place in town, was small but full of friendly faces and happy chatter. The little brick building, which was nestled in between the bookstore and the pharmacy, was filled with plastic booths with red vinyl seats. Dome lamps hung above each table and there was no service here--meaning you would order your food, wait for your number to be called, and then grab any available table. 

Most of the time you’d end up sharing with somebody, because everybody seemed to lack personal space in Chance. But that was okay; it was part of their charm. Louis strolled into the stuffy building, nodding his head in greeting at the Wilson family as he passed before placing his order at the counter. Louis smiled politely at the young girl who worked the register, her face covered in acne and a horrible set of braces on her. “Thanks, love,” he said, taking his change from her before moving off to the side. 

Louis hummed along with the song that was playing on the radio while he waited for his cheeseburger and side of fries to be prepared. Louis picked a piece of fluff off his black jeans, watching it fall to floor as he regretted his fashion choice already. It was way too hot to be wearing skinny jeans. But he thought if he was going to trek all the way into Raleigh-Durham, the closest major city, and risk running into somebody who recognized him as _Louis Tomlinson_ at the airport, he might as well dress the part. 

Not that he was recognized anymore. 

One Direction hadn’t been together in five years, and since then he had practically fallen off the face of the earth, so it was a very rare day that somebody remembered who he is. But, the few times that it’s happened over the years has always been while he’s travelling. Add in the back-to-blonde Niall Horan and you’ve got yourself 2/4 members, which doubles your chances of being recognized. Somebody was bound to snap a picture of the two of them together while still in the overpopulated city. So he’ll sweat in his skinny jeans for the time being; just so the world doesn’t think he’s completely let himself go. 

It’ll be back to athletic shorts and tanks the moment they get home. 

He might even free ball it. He was wild. And it was only Niall and Reggie to judge him. 

Reggie didn’t even wear pants. 

Except the one time Louis tried to drunkenly put a pair of his pajama bottoms on him. “Stay still, you oaf!” Louis had laughed as the dog squirmed away, kicking his paws out every time Louis tried to snatch one up. “Don’t you want to be cool like me?” Louis had asked, straddling the dog’s back like a horse and attempting to drag the pajamas over the dog’s bum.

(Louis definitely blamed the alcohol for that one.) 

Louis was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of his number being called. He quickly stepped up to the counter and grabbed the red tray from the girl, thanking her again before turning and heading towards an open booth in the corner. He checked his watch, noting that he had to leave in the next twenty minutes to make it to Raleigh on time. He figured it would take him about an hour to drive into the city. 

Just as he took the first bite of his burger, sweet Christ that was delicious, the bell chimed above the door and his eyes glanced over. He paused mid-chew, burger still hovered in front of his face, watching in horror as Harry stepped into the overheated restaurant. 

Why did God hate him so much? 

Was it because he took his name in vain often? Because he preferred dicks over vaginas? Did he kick puppies in his past life? Louis wasn’t sure, but he was certain that he did something to piss the Big Man Upstairs off at one point or another, because life shouldn’t turn out this way. Their eyes met and Harry paused mid-step, staring at Louis for a few seconds before he continued on towards the counter. 

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Louis groaned quietly, taking another large bite of his burger and trying to come up with a game plan. He could wrap his burger up and eat the rest in the car, but one of the best things about The Old Wagon’s burgers was how messy they were. The messier, the tastier, it was a proven fact. Was he willing to get burger grease and fixins (as the locals called them) all over his leather seats? 

Maybe. 

Depending on what happened next, he supposed. 

Louis slowly glanced over his shoulder, hoping that Harry wasn’t looking at him, and was grateful when all he could see was Harry’s broad back talking to the girl at the register. He could hear Harry’s low voice, charming as ever as the teenage girl swooned over his words, whatever he was saying. How he could flirt his way through a burger order was a true testament to Harry Styles’ charm. 

Louis forces himself not to think about how it used to work on him. 

Louis turned back towards his burger, taking another hesitant bite and chewing slowly as he tried to pick up any of Harry’s conversation. He wasn’t jealous, he was just curious. He had no reason to be jealous anyway; she was a sixteen year old _girl_ for Christ’s sake. (Sorry, God. Again.) And, more importantly, Harry was nothing to him. 

They didn’t exist. 

Right. 

Louis looked up to the sound of Harry clearing his throat and was not surprised at all to see him standing awkwardly next to Louis’ chosen booth. Louis swallowed the food left in his mouth as he looked over at Harry, before slowly reaching forward and picking up his sweating water glass and bringing it to his lips. He took a few sips of the iced water before setting it back down, his eyes still locked on Harry. 

“Hey,” Harry finally said. 

“Hi,” Louis responded, suspicious. 

“Um,” Harry said, because he could talk his way through any situation but always seemed to fumble with Louis. Louis chose not to remember that, as well, and forced himself to think of something else while he waited for Harry to finish his thought. “Am I banned from this place too? Or…” he trailed off, words slow as ever, his eyes avoiding Louis’. 

Louis sighed. He wanted to reply, _Yes, of course! Fuck off, Styles!_ Because he _should_ be banned from The Old Wagon. He should be banned from the entire state of North Carolina, because damn it this was Louis’ home! But at the end of the day Louis was raised better than that and he had already claimed Keith’s as his. If they were going to be forced to share a town, which was becoming more evident each time they ran into each other, Louis wouldn’t be able to claim every restaurant in it. 

After all, there were only so many. 

Damn his mum for teaching him manners. 

Remembering suddenly that he hadn’t responded and that they were still just staring at each other, Louis cleared his throat and said, “Fine.” 

“Fine…?” Harry repeated. 

“You can be here,” Louis clarified, causing Harry to snort, but the relief was clear on his face. Louis narrowed his eyes, not liking his snorted laughter as a response. Louis was being serious. He was trying to do the right thing! “What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing.” Harry shook his head, sticking his hands into his pockets. At least he was wearing light denim shorts this time and wasn’t wearing any designer clothing, to Louis’ knowledge. Louis looked down at the shorts for a moment, wondering if they were the same small [s](http://66.media.tumblr.com/9a9e0ad1927963a575c3657a6f11731e/tumblr_inline_n8oa3lMvVt1ra36i4.jpg)horts Harry used to traipse around in back when they were together and in the band. Quickly shaking his head from his thoughts, Louis looked up at Harry one more time before focusing back on his burger. 

What Louis wasn’t expecting was for Harry to slide into the booth across from him. 

He paused mid-chew, staring at Harry as if he had grown two heads. “Um,” Louis said, around a mouthful of burger. “I meant”--he swallowed the rest of his bite--“you can be here. Like. Not _here,”_ he said, gesturing with his burger at their shared table. “But here in the restaurant. There are plenty of open tables,” he said, now swinging the burger towards the rest of the room. He watched as a pickle flew out of his burger and landed with a splat in the middle of their table. 

He frowned. 

What a waste. 

“I’m just waiting for my food to be ready. I ordered it for take away,” Harry said, his eyes locked on the slimey pickle that laid in between them. And--oh. That was… almost considerate of him. “Unless you _want_ me to stay…” he trailed off, flashing Louis a cheeky grin. 

Louis narrowed his eyes. Had he not been listening at all? He knew Harry was just trying to spin him back up, because _apparently that’s what he did now,_ so Louis ignored him completely and took another bite of his food. He watched in horror as Harry plucked the fallen pickle up between his fingertips and popped it in his mouth. 

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed, tiny bits of food flying out of his mouth at once. “You don’t know where this table’s been!” Clearly Harry hadn’t spent enough time in this small town--it wasn’t known for its cleanliness. That’s not to say anything was dirty, but, _come on._ The table probably hadn’t been wiped down in hours! Louis was suddenly reminded of the time Harry was caught eating random fruit he had found _in an elevator_ during an award show. 

He just didn’t think things through. 

Harry grinned at him as he chewed, then smiled with his teeth showing. Louis wondered if Harry was thinking about the VMAs too. No, probably not. Louis hadn’t thought about that in years. For some reason he wanted to bring it up, see if Harry even remembered, but then he thought better of it. They don’t go down mem-lane together. 

Ever. 

“It’s amazing you haven’t picked up a disease yet,” Louis said, shaking his head and setting his burger back down on its paper tray. 

“You always worry too much.” Harry shrugged easily. “Overthink things.” 

“Like _sanitation?_ ” Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Yup.” Harry grinned, popping the end of the word. And just-- _no._ Louis needed to get away from this situation before he was forced into remembering how easy it used to be between them. Back before they didn’t exist to each other, back when they could easily banter their way through an afternoon in their shared flat. The flat they shared in London right after X-Factor. 

Jesus, Louis hadn’t thought about that place in years. 

They had moved in together right away, Louis having to sign on as Harry’s guardian _because they were so fucking young,_ and had made that place into their first home. They had learned to live together there, learned to love each other there. They lived there all throughout their first tour, their first album, their first introduction to fame--until they agreed they wanted to buy a house together. 

Because they were _there._

They were at that point in their relationship, even as young as they were. 

So that’s exactly what they did. They bought a house. 

Louis’ house. 

Louis’ _real_ house, back in London. The same one that Harry moved all of his stuff out of the week before Christmas 2013, the week before Louis’ _birthday,_ because they had finally called it quits for good, less than one year after moving into said house. Fuck, this was way too much. Why the fuck was Louis thinking about all this again? 

Fucking Harry Styles. 

It was like Harry could sense Louis was thinking about something painful, because he slowly stopped grinning at him and sighed quietly instead. He looked down in between them, down at the red table they were sitting at, and silence washed over the two of them. Louis desperately wanted to leave, wanted to wrap up the rest of his burger in the greasy parchment it came in, dump his fries into a napkin and run out to his car. But something was stopping him and he didn’t know what. 

“Sometimes...” Harry cleared his throat, causing Louis to look up at him. “I still can’t believe this is happening.” His words came out slow, as if he was thinking each one through before he said it. He looked up and made eye contact with Louis. “You and me, here in this town. S’bit crazy, innit?” 

“Definitely,” Louis choked out, busying himself by picking up his burger again, but he hesitated taking a bite. Just held it there between his fingers, the grease soaking into the tips of them. 

“I really didn’t know you were here,” Harry said, looking earnestly at Louis. “I know you probably don’t believe that, because this whole thing is just… crazy. But I swear I didn’t.” 

Louis took a deep breath in, holding it in until his lungs felt tight before releasing it. “I believe you.” 

“I don’t think I would have had the courage to come here if I did,” Harry chuckled, but his grin never returned. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, because _yeah._ That was definitely true. He never thought he’d be alone again with Harry Styles--ever. Harry had to have felt the same way. As much as Louis would like to blame this horrible situation on sabotage, Louis knew that he was speaking the truth. 

“I just wanted you to know.” Harry shrugged, meeting Louis’ eyes again. “I didn’t do this on purpose. I’m _not_ doing this on purpose to torture you. It really is a coincidence that we keep running into each other like this.” 

“It’s a small town,” Louis finally said, his voice hoarse so he cleared it again. “It’s bound to happen.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, forcing a small smile onto his face. “You look good, Lou.” 

Louis felt like his heart stopped. He was sure the panic written across his face was visible to Harry, but he either chose to ignore it or thankfully didn’t mention it. How was Louis supposed to respond to that? It was a broad statement that could mean a lot of things--he looked healthy, he looked happy, he looked content--but it could also mean exactly what it said.

And that was somewhere Louis would _definitely_ not be going back to. 

No. 

Regardless of whether it was just an offhand comment or not, Louis was suddenly panicking with the need to get out of there. He set his burger down, quickly wrapping the parchment back around whatever was left and sliding out of the booth. He looked back at Harry, who was now frowning at him. “I--have to go.” 

Harry slowly nodded. 

“Have my fries,” Louis said, nodding towards what was left on his tray, before quickly bolting towards the door. He shouldered his way outside, not looking back and instead making a beeline towards his car. He fumbled with the keys in his pockets, his hands still greasy from the burger he was clutching tightly, and ended up honking the horn when he pressed lock instead of unlock. 

“Fucking. Shit,” he muttered, finally pulling the door open and slamming it behind him. With the half-eaten burger now in his lap, he wrapped his arms around the steering wheel and burrowed his head into the crook of his arms. What the fuck had just happened? He felt like the walls had been closing in on him _just from one stupid comment_ that probably meant _nothing at all!_

This is why he and Harry couldn’t exist to each other. 

Even if they wanted to. (Which they didn’t.) 

If Louis was going to freak out over one simple comment, a comment that _he himself_ agrees with because yeah, up until this moment he has been pretty fucking happy here and he’s sure that _does_ look good on him. But, hearing it from Harry was just--it couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. This could only lead back to more heartache, and frankly, Louis was done being heartbroken over Harry Styles.  
  


  


***

  


Having Niall back was like a breath of fresh air. Sure, they talked every day and still saw each other more often than not, but the feeling Louis had when they pulled up to his small house and Niall said, “Home Sweet Home!” was pretty settling. Because yes, he was home, and yes, he had his Niall with him. His world may have been recently turned upside down, but for the next week while Niall was there, he was determined to make the best out of it.

He had picked up Niall from the Raleigh-Durham International Airport about an hour and a half ago, and if anybody recognized the two of them, they didn’t mention it. Back in the day, either of them going _inside_ an airport to greet the other would have been completely out of the question. The whole thing would have been documented by fans and broadcasted live on Twitter immediately. Chaos would have broken out in baggage claim--again--and security would have had to come and rescue them. Or the cops would have arrested Louis-- _again_ \--and he really wasn’t trying to relive that anytime soon. 

But now, Louis was able to stroll through baggage claim and wait for his best friend’s arrival like a normal person would and it was an amazing feeling. Did he ever miss the days when the whole world was interested in him? Sure. It definitely wasn’t all bad, no matter how jaded he made himself out to be, but being able to do simple things like picking up a friend from the airport would never get old now that it was an option again. 

After bantering back and forth for a while, Louis had finally gone into detail about everything that had happened while Niall had been airborne. He told him about the restaurant and how genuine Harry seemed at times--basically _how fucked up his life was now_ \--and that conversation had lasted for a good portion of the trip back home. 

Now, though, Louis was determined to make the best of the evening (what was left of it, at least) and told himself he wouldn’t think about Harry for the rest of the night. As soon as their car doors slammed, the sound of Reggie’s half-hearted “If you’re thinking about robbin’ us, could you not? I’m old and tired” barking started and Louis grinned at Niall. 

“Are you ready to finally meet the beast?” 

“Fuck yes!” Niall cheered, excited to meet the dog that had stolen Louis’ heart. Louis had thought about taking Reggie back home with him whenever he visited, but he always decided last-minute that it would be too cruel to force such an old dog to travel so far for just a week or two at a time. So whenever Louis went back home, Reggie would stay with the Fischers next door.

(And come home spoiled rotten by their six-year-old, Rachel. But that was a different story.) 

“He doesn’t normally bark when it’s just me, but the old bastard still has a good nose. He can probably smell your Irish arse from here.” Louis grinned, unlocking the door and opening it wide for Niall to step through. 

“He can smell my greatness, you mean,” Niall retorted, instantly crouching down to greet the dog who was slowly meandering over towards them, a suspicious look still covering his features. 

“It’s alright, boy,” Louis said to the dog, “it’s just Niall.” 

As if he understood what that meant, he sniffed Niall’s waiting fingers for a second before nudging his head under them for an ear scratch. Yes, he was definitely the perfect dog. Louis smiled fondly as he watched his best friend and best dog get acquainted, before chuckling at the ridiculous baby voice Niall was talking to him in. “Dat’s right my wittle Reggie-smeggie, you’re just the cutest wittle thing in the whole wide world.” 

Louis rolled his eyes but couldn’t help secretly agreeing. 

This was definitely better than thinking about Harry Styles. 

“Do you want a beer?” Louis offered, already heading towards the kitchen. 

“Does a bear shit in the woods?” 

“Probably,” Louis snickered, grabbing two bottles out of the fridge before making his way back to the living room, just as Niall was standing up straight. He passed him one of the bottles before twisting off the cap of his own and tossing it somewhere on the coffee table. “So, are you ready for the grand tour?” Louis asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Of course,” Niall easily agreed, grinning at Louis as he took a sip of the cold beer. “Not that I haven’t seen the whole place on Skype before, but…” 

“But it’s different in person!” Louis argued. “Really _let it in.”_

Truthfully, Louis’ house wasn’t much and that’s just the way he wanted it. He had gone above and beyond on his living room furniture, because obviously that’s where he spends most of his time. The two matching black couches had chaises on either end of them and were so soft you could sleep on them comfortably every night. In between the two rested an old wooden coffee table that he picked up somewhere along the way, and mounted on the wall across from that was the TV. 

But the couches, man, he was proud of them. 

They also cost him a fortune, but One Direction was good for something. 

The walls in most of the house were painted a light grey, because Louis was a simple boy and also couldn’t be arsed to paint. Louis explained as much as they made their way through the house, on the “Official Tour” even though Niall _had_ seen everything over Skype before. Louis showed him to the guest room, which had matching wooden furniture that Lottie had helped pick out. 

(“It’s rustic and classic! You practically live in the woods, bro. You should go all out!” 

“Next you’re gonna tell me to mount a deer head on the wall,” Louis had shot back, rolling his eyes fondly.) 

There were no deer heads on any of the walls, but there was a soft red and blue quilt that his mum had made him years ago and Louis felt proud to let anybody stay in his guest room. After lugging Niall’s suitcase in, they continued the tour down the hall into Louis’ bedroom. Queen-size bed, black bedding because he thought it made him modern and cool, and a flatscreen mounted on the wall because Louis was a lazy shit who spent too much time in here. 

Louis’ room had an en suite, but Niall would be using the guest bathroom that was just across the hall from where he’d be staying. The hall looped back around to the kitchen, which was fairly big with a huge island in the middle of everything (Louis’ favorite part. The island was so big he had dubbed it a continent instead whenever it came up in conversation). A few stools were pressed up against the far side of the island, and past the kitchen was the dining room that he had only used when his family had come to visit him. 

They walked through the dining room, just to keep the tour going, and it ended back in the living room. 

“I gotta say, Tommo.” Niall clapped a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You’ve carved yourself a nice little corner of the world.” 

Louis couldn’t help but smile at that, because _fuck yes he had._

A few beers later, they were sprawled out on their respective couches, the television playing one of the old Jason Bourne movies that happened to be on cable, Reggie curled up on the couch next to Louis with his head resting against his thigh. Louis had promised himself that he wasn’t going to think about Harry for the rest of the night, but then again, Louis fucking sucked at his promises lately. 

“Are you gonna see him while you’re here?” Louis asked out of the blue, rolling his head over to the side to glance at Niall. 

“Harry?” 

“Yeah.” 

Niall hesitated, leaning up on his elbow and looking back at Louis. He scratched at his hair for a moment before letting his arm drop back down to his side, shrugging half-heartedly and making a noncommittal noise. On the television, Jason Bourne was beating the shit out of a group of guys, and for a few moments that was the only sound between them. Finally, Niall said, “It’d be kinda fucked up if I didn’t, right?” And--yeah. He was right. _They were friends._

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, his tone quiet as he rolled his head back over to look at the telly. 

After another few seconds of silence, Niall continued, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.” 

Louis sighed. Niall was such a good friend sometimes. “Nah,” he replied, shifting his head back to look at Niall. “It’s okay. You should see him.” 

“What if the three of us went out one night?” 

Louis laughed so suddenly that it scared Reggie awake and he looked up with betrayal in his eyes. Louis scratched his ears lovingly before looking back at Niall. “Absolutely not.” 

“Hear me out.” Niall rolled his eyes, pushing up off his elbow so he was sitting up straight, his arms resting against his thighs. “You’re going to end up seeing each other from time to time, you’ve said that yourself. Small towns or whatever. It happened just a few hours ago, for fuck’s sake,” Niall laughed. Louis was not amused. “But if the three of us go out together, at least I can be there to be your buffer again and maybe you guys can get to the point where you’re like. I don’t know. Not ready to kill each other?” 

“Niall,” Louis said flatly, “no.” 

“But--” 

“No.” 

“You didn’t even think about,” Niall said, glaring. 

“I don’t have to think about it. The answer will always be no.” 

“But--it’s a good idea! You two get along just fine as long as there’s a buffer, I think everything we went through as a band proves that, it’s just the whole _alone_ bit that you suck at. So, lemme fix it.” 

“It can’t be fixed, Neil,” Louis sighed, watching as Reggie had enough of their conversation and slinked off the couch towards his own pillow. _You and me both, bro,_ Louis thought with a quiet chuckle. 

“But you wouldn’t fight if I’m there.” 

“You’re right, but as soon as we’re alone the next time, we would. Or--we wouldn’t fight, we didn’t fight today, it’s just. Like.” Louis scratched at his stubble, trying to figure out how to word it. “It would still be awkward as fuck, okay? So there’s no point for us to go all Three Musketeers, just for nothing good to come out of it.” 

“Okay, what if I had a different approach,” Niall said, rubbing his hands together suspiciously. Oh no. “What if I played Dr. Phil between you both and sat you down all proper ‘n shit and _forced_ you to talk about your issues.” 

“Um!” Louis declared, another loud un-amused laugh rising from his lungs. “That is the worst fucking idea I’ve ever heard!” 

“What?!” Niall laughed. “It could work!” 

“You’re fuckin’ mad!” Louis laughed, grabbing the pillow next to him and chucking it at Niall’s head. “One of us would be leaving in a body bag!” 

“You’re so dramatic, princess.” Niall rolled his eyes again, popping up from the couch and heading back towards the kitchen for more beers. Louis just shook his head, chuckling to himself at the absurdity of the whole thing. Sometimes Niall looked at things through rose-colored glasses; nothing was unfixable in his world and every relationship was able to be mended, no matter how bad it had ended. Niall’s positive outlook on life was honestly one of his best traits, one that Louis was often jealous of considering how bitter he could be, but it wasn’t always realistic. 

The things that had happened between Louis and Harry were just--they were unfixable. It was too hard and too much. It wouldn’t be worth the torture it’d do to Louis’ heart if he even tried to become friends with Harry again. They had been _so_ painfully in love and things had ended _so_ badly between them that if they ever tried to have a normal relationship again, all those feelings would have to get dragged to the surface first. 

It was too much to stay buried. 

And Louis knew he was not strong enough to make it through it again. 

Louis hummed out his thanks when Niall handed him another beer, one of many they’ve had that evening, and watched as Niall bent down to feed Reggie one of the treats he must have grabbed from the jar. Louis thought about telling him that Reggie only ate those _after he pooed outside like a good boy,_ but he decided the old dog deserved an extra treat every now and again. 

While Niall was still crouched down in front of Reggie, complimenting him on his treat-eating abilities (because apparently they were both fucking _gone_ for this dog), Louis finally spoke back up. “I appreciate what you’re doin’ with me and Harry. Really, mate. I’m just not interested.” 

“You don’t know what’s good for you,” Niall sang back, to a tune that sounded way too much like What Makes You Beautiful, his tone sweet as he scratched around Reggie’s ears. “Imagine how much easier and stress-free your life would be if you ‘n Harry didn’t make each other want to _die_ after each encounter.” 

Louis huffed, letting his head fall back against the couch and blinking up at the ceiling. 

“I’m not even asking for bestie status! Just close enough where you could give each other the Bro-Nod when you see each other in the streets.” 

Louis laughed, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily. “What the bloody hell is a Bro-Nod?” he asked, leaning his head back up and looking over at Niall, who proceeded to demonstrate it. 

“This thing,” he said, jutting his chin up in the air. “Like-- _sup man?_ Everybody does it.” 

“Bro-Nod,” Louis repeated, giggling quietly. “Sounds sexual.” 

“That’s because you have a filthy mind, you sick fuck,” Niall laughed, finally standing up from petting the dog. His knees cracked loudly, the poor bastard, and he hissed as he rubbed at his still-visible scar while heading back to his couch. “I sound like an old man,” he groaned, falling back onto the chaise and letting his beer bottle dangle towards the floor by the hold he had around the neck. 

“Your bum knee made you sound like an old man when you were seventeen,” Louis pointed out, chuckling afterwards. 

“Yeah, and now imma be _twenty-eight_ in a few months, oh God.” 

“Shut the hell up,” Louis laughed. “At least you’re not about to be _thirty.”_

“True. You’re old as fuck.” 

“I hate you,” Louis pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

They ended up bantering back and forth for a while afterwards, back to usual, and Louis thought that the subject of a Three Musketeers outing was dropped for good. But, alas, Niall has the memory of an elephant and as soon as the conversation died down he said, “So, what day works for you? Tomorrow? Sunday?” 

“Niall. I’m not going.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s a terrible idea!” 

And that’s exactly how Louis found himself following Niall into the local bar the very next night. Harry was already sitting at the bar and instantly jumped up when he spotted the wild blonde heading towards him. “Harry! You son of a bitch!” Niall greeted loudly, rushing toward him and pulling him into a giant hug, the two of them laughing with each other as they embraced. 

If Louis wasn’t so bitter, he might have found it cute. 

“Niall Horan, you legend,” Harry said, still gripping Niall tightly before they finally pulled apart, though their arms were still wrapped around each other. He smiled down at Niall, roughing his hair up a bit. “It’s been too long, mate. How are you? How’s your family?” Because of course, Harry Styles is literally the nicest human being on this planet. Louis can’t stand him. Didn’t Harry and Niall just see each other a month ago? 

“I’m great, man. Family’s great. North Carolina, amiright?” Niall said, looking around because apparently he was addressing the whole bar now? There were maybe six other people in the bar, including the bartender, and yet all of them seemed to acknowledge him with some sort of groan or cheer. 

Fucking America. 

Niall laughed at the response, finally letting go fully of Harry and turning his attention towards the bartender, Matt. Yes, Louis knew his name-- _it was a small town, okay?_ Louis listened, still standing back awkwardly from the pair, as Niall greeted the bartender and ordered a round of pints for the group. “Actually,” he said, looking around the very empty bar, “fuck it. Lemme get a round for everybody.” 

Louis couldn’t help but genuinely smile at that; sometimes he forgot how cool it was to have One Direction money. He loved doing nice things for people, always had, and the charity work that all of them had done, and continue to do, was something he was still very proud of. But it was little things like this, buying rounds for everybody, tipping generously, that was his favorite thing about being as rich as they are. 

Being an ex-popstar really did have its benefits. 

Louis wasn’t all jaded, remember? Just mostly. 

“Hey, Lou.” Louis was cut from his thoughts by Harry addressing him casually, and Louis had to bite back a snicker when he gave him what had to be considered a _Bro-Nod_ in return. When the bartender finished pouring their drinks, Niall deemed one of the high-top round tables as their own and they all sat down around it. 

Louis’ feet didn’t touch the ground. Harry’s did. Fuck everything--life wasn’t fair. 

“So, how’s life, man?” Niall asked, sipping his beer and raising his eyebrows at Harry. Louis’ eyes darted over to Harry, watching as he set his glass down and wiped his stupid pink mouth with the back of his hand. 

“It’s great, really. I’m actually really enjoying it here. This place is lovely.” 

“Yeah, bro.” Louis’ eyes flitted back to Niall. “This place is sick. I’m lovin’ it so far.” 

“When did you get in?” Harry asked, Louis’ eyes naturally flowing back to his. 

“Last night,” Niall replied. Louis was going to get a headache if he kept looking back and forth between the two of them. He stared down at his glass instead, watching as a bead of condensation rolled its way down towards the coaster. “Oh, I’ve been meanin’ to ask. What the hell made you decide to come _here?”_ Niall asked, and honestly--Louis fucking loved him. Louis had been wondering that since the moment Harry Styles crashed back into his life. But they don’t talk, so. “I mean, ain’t it some shit that you ‘n Tommo end up in the same place?” 

_Ain’t it some shit,_ Louis laughed darkly in his head. That was putting it lightly. 

Harry chuckled, causing Louis to switch his eyes back to him again, because he was definitely curious as to what his answer was going to be. “It’s a long story,” Harry said, picking up his glass and taking another sip of the frothy beer. 

“Mate. We got the time,” Niall laughed, gesturing around at the bar. “Isn’t that all you people have here?” 

“Watch yourself,” Louis finally piped up, saying his first words of the night. Niall grinned over at him and out of the corner of his eye, Louis could see Harry smirking as well. He refused to look back over there. Instead, Louis focused his attention back on the sweating beer glass. 

“Well,” Harry said, slow as always and ugh--this _was_ going to take forever with the way Harry spoke. “I told you back in London that I was doing some travelling, trying to find my muse, remember?” _His muse?_ Honestly, who the fuck was Harry Styles? Niall hummed out an agreement around his beer glass. “So I bounced around different places in America, not really having a plan. I knew I liked the small towns and low populated areas, but nothing really felt right.” 

“I spent some time in South Dakota, Montana, upstate New York,” Harry continued, pausing every once in awhile because he was annoying as fuck. Or whatever. “And I realized that I really liked more of the mountain areas, you know? New York was really pretty and there was a lake there I spent some time at, but the owners were coming back soon so I had to leave.” 

_The owners_ \--did Harry realize he was just as rich as the rest of them? He could easily buy a place out anywhere he went. Okay, none of them did that, even though they could--but still. If he liked upstate New York so much, he should have fucking stayed there and invested in a place. That would have put three healthy states in between them. Louis took a deep breath in, his eyes popping out a bit with it, realizing just how bitter he was sounding to himself. Maybe he needed to relax. 

He tuned back in to their conversation. “So then I was searching around Airbnb--have you heard of it?”

Louis’ eyes narrowed. It’s fucking 2021; who hasn’t heard of Airbnb--“What in the hell is that?” Niall laughed, looking over at Louis for confirmation. Louis’ eyes narrowed further at him and made a mental note to take the piss out of Niall later for living under a rock. In the meantime, Louis just shrugged, because he wasn’t going to be the one to explain it. 

Harry chuckled. “It’s this website where people rent out their houses, basically. They describe what kind of house it is and what the surrounding area is like, and depending on the property you can rent it for different time periods.” What the hell, was Harry working for them now? Why was he pushing them so hard? 

Breathe, Louis. Breathe. 

“Sick, mate,” Niall responded, nodding as if his approval mattered. Louis took another deep breath in through his nose and brought his glass up to his mouth, draining half the glass in one go. Neither of them noticed--good. 

“Then I came across this one post,” Harry chuckled, “and I swear it was titled: Why don’t you give us a Chance?” He paused to laugh again, and despite Louis’ best efforts, he could feel a smile coming on. “Perfect, right? Like--you both know me. I can’t resist a pun. When I found out the _town_ was called Chance, I booked it right away. Clever, that.” 

“That’s fuckin’ genius!” Niall cackled. Louis bit down on his bottom lip hard; he refused to give in. He would give credit where credit was due--if he could find the designer of that post, he’d give them their credit. But Harry just _found_ the stupid post and Louis refused to give him the satisfaction of laughing. 

“Right?” Harry laughed along, they all took a sip of their beers. “So I booked the cabin and got a plane ticket for the very next day and that was that. Here I am.” Louis noted right away that Harry didn’t say how _long_ he booked the cabin for. He thought about asking for a second, but then thought better of it. He looked over at Niall, staring him down hard, telling him silently, _Ask him, you fucking fool._ Niall looked at Louis with a confused expression and mouthed _What?_

Fucking useless, the Irish were. 

“Trust me,” Harry continued, and Louis could feel his eyes burning into the side of his face, “the last thing on earth I was expecting that night in the grocery store was to run into Louis. I think that was clear on both of our faces, eh, mate?” 

Mate? 

As if. 

Louis finally looked up at Harry but showed nothing with his expression. He also didn’t acknowledge that Harry had asked him a question. Okay--maybe Louis was being a bit of a tit, but he didn’t want this night to happen in the first place and it was all Niall Horan’s fault.

“It’s fuckin’ crazy that you’re both here,” Niall said, laughing loudly and taking another long drink from his pint. 

Louis cleared his throat. “The fucking _odds_ man, I’m tellin’ ya.” 

“Oh god, please don’t start that shit again,” Niall groaned, dramatically banging his head down against the table, causing Harry to chuckle. “You shoulda heard this man going on and fucking _on_ about the literal odds of you two running into each other,” he told Harry after he pulled his forehead up from the table. 

Um, _hello?_ Louis was sitting right there!!!

“Yeah,” Harry mused, that damn smirk coming back and his dimple popping out--not that Louis noticed or anything. “He said something about that when we ran into each other the first time.” 

“I’m right here! Can you fucks stop talking about me like I’m not?!” Louis exclaimed, finally reaching his boiling point. 

“Ah, there he is!” Niall said, reaching over to try and pull Louis into some sort of a headlock, even though there was a table in the way. “I knew you were in there somewhere! Just had to get the turtle to pop outta his shell!” 

“Oh, piss off,” Louis said, flipping him off with his right hand as he reached for his beer with his left. 

Harry laughed loudly, that fucking laugh that made his head fall back and slap his knee at the same time. It caught Louis off guard--mostly because he hadn’t heard that laugh in _so_ long. He paused with his beer halfway to his mouth and just watched as Harry gripped the tabletop with one hand and wiped at his eyes with the other. 

Louis didn’t even know what made him laugh, whether it was him or Niall, but he had to bite back another grin that he refused to let show. He resumed his beer moving towards his mouth and took a deep breath afterwards. This was going to be one hell of a night. 

Fucking Harry Styles.  
  


* * *

  
  
On Monday morning, Harry and Niall went golfing, because _of fucking course they did._ Niall was quick to invite Louis, insisted that it would be fun and even tried to bribe him with the offer of letting him drive the golf cart, but Louis outright refused. There were very few things Louis hated in this world more than golf; add in a morning with Harry Styles and it was a definite _no_ from Louis. 

Hard pass. 

That’s how Louis found himself sitting alone on the couch early in the morning, Reggie snoozing next to him with his head resting against Louis’ thigh, their favorite TV watching position. He had woken up when Niall had left, Harry having picked him up _from Louis’ house what the fuck now he knows where he lives!!!_ and Louis couldn’t fall back asleep afterwards. 

So after tossing and turning in bed for a long while, because Jesus Christ it was barely past 6AM, Louis had finally given up and made his way out to the living room. Niall had been nice enough to let Reggie out before he left, so there was no obligatory dog walking to do. So of course he had plopped right down on his chaise, which was definitely starting to resemble his bum, and found a movie to watch on the telly. 

But he was having a hard time focusing. 

It’s not that he was _possessive_ of Niall--he _knew_ he had other friends, but. Like. Niall flew all the way here to see _him_ and now he was out golfing with Harry. Louis knew he was being a baby about it, and Niall had made sure Louis was okay with it about a hundred times before actually agreeing to go, but. What was Louis supposed to do? 

If he had said, _“No, Niall! Stay here with me!”_ he would have reached a whole new level of pathetic. 

So. As it stands, he’ll cuddle here with Reggie and pout about his ex-boyfriend stealing his best friend. 

Fuck.

Louis rubbed at his temples hard, aware that he was stressing himself out more than anybody else was. It’s just--now that Louis was seeing Harry all the time, he couldn’t help but dig up old shit from his brain that he swore he’d never think about again. He tried to distract himself every time he goes down that path, but. They just have so much history together. 

This morning, specifically, he’d been thinking about Take Me Home. 

The tour, not the album. 

It was the best and worst time of his entire life. 

At the beginning of the tour, he had everything he wanted in the world. He and Harry had just bought a beautiful house outside of London, they were going on a _real_ world tour that went to _so_ many places he had never been before and the venues they were playing at were fucking _sick._ But more than anything, he had Harry with him and it was just. 

It was everything he ever needed. 

He loved that stupid boy so much that he burned with it. 

But it wasn’t too long into the tour that everything started to change. 

Coming out was not an option, and frankly… Louis wasn’t ready for it to be back then. Harry had been ready, kind of always was, he had never been ashamed of who he was, but Louis just wasn’t there yet. Louis had barely known he preferred blokes around the time of his X-Factor audition and then he jumped straight into the most serious relationship of his life. The only serious relationship he’s ever been in. He never had the chance to figure things out on his own. 

So when management flat-out _denied_ their (Harry’s) request to come out, Louis was. Well, he was relieved. Not that he would ever tell Harry that, because it had destroyed him, but Louis hadn’t been ready for the whole world to judge him yet. Anyway--one thing lead to another and after many _many_ meetings and a lot of legal jargon that he would never understand, they flew in Eleanor. 

Eleanor Calder, Louis’ new girlfriend. 

She was a lovely girl, truly. Some of the things she went through because of their arrangement were just as bad, emotionally, on her as they had been for Harry and Louis. She wasn’t just cyberbullied; she was cyber _tortured._ By thousands--no, _millions_ of teenage girls all over the globe. To this day, Louis still felt bad about what she had to go through. They weren’t close anymore, but Louis still made sure to send her a nice birthday gift each year. 

As if that will erase everything she went through for him. 

The worst part of the whole thing, looking back, is that Harry and Louis agreed to this. They were both given the plan, every step of the stunt. When Eleanor would be here, when they would be in public together, what situations would call for her to be unexpectedly flown out and, of course they agreed to it--it was fucking genius. If they went along with the stunt and Louis played up the doting boyfriend role, it would help them. 

He would get to spend more time with Harry. 

Sure, it’d be a secret, but that’s how they’d get to the finish line. 

So he and Harry had gone home, talked it over, weighed the pros and cons, and it was obvious what choice they had to make. Two weeks later, they met Eleanor for the first time and they both agreed that yes, she was perfect for it. She was beautiful, she was kind, she got to know them both on a personal level. Everything was going so smoothly. 

But then… it wasn’t. 

Because everything sounds good on paper, but when you’re a hormonal teenage boy missing your boyfriend who’s right in front of you... it gets pretty fucking horrible. It didn’t happen all at once, but by the middle of the tour, just before they went to America, it seemed like they had started fighting more often than not. 

And it was tearing Louis apart, because... this was his fault. 

This was his responsibility. 

He was failing Harry. Definitely not intentionally, but it was _his_ stunt and Harry was _his_ boyfriend and he wasn’t being convincing enough! Everybody still thought he was gay! Every time he failed and held Eleanor’s hand wrong, the direct result would be watching Harry’s face fall when he’d have to tell him, “I’m sorry, babe, I can’t see you tonight.” 

How was Louis supposed to deal with that? 

How could he stand by and watch as he continued to break Harry’s heart, over and over again? The only boy he’d ever loved. The only _person_ that he’d ever loved. Harry was everything to him, his entire world, and he was failing him over and over again. 

By the time they got to America, they were barely holding on by a thread. The other boys would stay in hotel rooms most every night, leaving the bus to Louis and Harry so they could have _some_ sort of privacy, because there was a strict policy about them ever being seen at the same hotel, and for some reason Louis kept thinking about this one night. 

He remembered they were in Louisville, because _how could he ever forget his ville,_ and Louis was late getting back to the bus because a bunch of fans had spotted him and they also knew Harry was sleeping on the bus that night. So Louis had to wait them out, and by the time he got on the bus it was nearly 3AM, giving them only a few short hours before they’d be separated again. 

He’ll never forget the broken look on Harry’s face when he finally rounded the steps of the bus. Harry had been standing in the kitchenette area, a pair of Louis’ trackies over his legs and Louis’ hoodie spread across his chest, his eyes red and puffy because he had clearly been crying all night. Louis forcibly swallowed, not knowing what to say and being so mad at himself for letting it get like this. 

“I hate her,” Harry said, blunt and out of the blue, taking Louis by surprise because Harry didn’t hate anybody.

“Haz,” Louis whispered, wincing slightly. He reached out towards him but Harry flinched away. Maybe that stung more than anything. “You don’t hate her, you hate the situation--” 

“Don’t fucking defend her!” Harry snapped, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair that she gets to spend all day with you and I get nothing. You’re _my_ boyfriend, Louis!” Harry exclaimed, his voice cracking despite how hard he was trying to hold it all together. Louis wanted to curl up and die. “We’re on the same damn tour together and I feel like I never even see you.” 

“We’re together right now...” Louis whispered, not trusting his voice to say it any louder. 

“Are we?” Harry whispered back and he just sounded so fucking hurt. So _fucking_ hurt. It haunted Louis--he could still hear it in his nightmares, still woke up in a cold sweat thinking about how fucking broken he made Harry. All because he wasn’t as good at acting as he thought he was. He couldn’t even convince a bunch of stupid girls that he was in love with Eleanor, so that he could really be with the love of his life. 

“Haz--” Louis choked out, his voice betraying him. 

Harry shook his head. “I’m so sick of this.” 

“Me too,” Louis whispered, aching to reach out and touch. Harry wouldn’t look at him. “Baby,” he whispered, watching as Harry squeezed his eyes shut and let out a rough sob. That finally had Louis closing the distance between them, grabbing Harry around his waist and pulling him into a tight embrace. Harry shuddered against him, silent sobs racking through his body, and Louis squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the pain.

“It’s just so hard,” Harry whispered, his voice muffled against Louis’ shoulder. 

“I know, babe.” Louis nodded, running his hands up Harry’s back and wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders. Louis inhaled deeply through his nose, the scent of Harry’s apple shampoo filling his senses and making him never want to let go. 

“I just. I miss you and then I feel stupid for missing you because--because you’re right here,” Harry said, his arms low around Louis’ back and pinning them tightly together. 

“Don’t ever feel stupid for missing me, baby,” Louis said, his lips pressing against Harry’s ear as he spoke, wanting so bad to be able to take all his pain away. If only he knew how. “I miss you all the time. I miss you when you go to the loo,” Louis chuckled, causing a wet laugh to leave Harry’s lungs. Eventually they were able to let each other go that night, just long enough to lie down in their shared bunk. 

Louis curled tightly around Harry’s still shaking body, holding the trembling boy back against his chest, knowing that when Harry got this way he needed to be the little spoon--even though Harry had grown taller than Louis last year. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, lacing their hands together against Harry’s stomach before whispering, “I love you so much it hurts sometimes.” 

Harry didn’t respond, but he squeezed their joined hands and scooted back further, their bodies plastered together impossibly tight. “You’re it for me, Harry,” Louis whispered, pressing a drawn-out kiss to the side of Harry’s neck. “I could never love anybody like I love you.” Harry shuddered but nodded all the same, pulling on Louis’ arms until they were wrapped around him in a hug, his arms pinning Louis’ tightly to his chest. 

“I love you, too,” Harry finally whispered back and Louis squeezed his eyes shut tightly, promising himself that he wouldn’t let Harry keep hurting like this. He’d do better. He’d make this right. He’d figure out what he needed to do to make Harry happy again--he swore he would. He’d do anything in the world just to see Harry happy again. He pulled Harry back further, nuzzling his face in between Harry’s neck and shoulder, promising himself that tomorrow would be better. 

But tomorrow wasn’t better, and neither was the following week.

Things kept getting harder and more stressful and Harry kept fucking off to LA on their days off because Louis was scheduled with Eleanor all day. They could have at least seen each other at night, on the bus when nobody else was around, but Harry was running away from it all and Louis was--well. He was relieved. 

Then he would feel guilty for feeling relieved, but it was just easier when he didn’t have to see the hurt in Harry’s eyes. When he didn’t have to watch him break Harry’s heart over and over again. 

They didn’t break up that week, or the one after that, but Harry still moved out of their home that Christmas all the same. Louis still failed the only person that ever meant anything to him. And even after all these years, all these miles, all the distance that he’s put between them and all the times he’s tried and failed at moving on--his heart still ached for Harry. 

“Fuck,” Louis whispered to himself now, looking down at Reggie and feeling like he was twenty-one and losing Harry all over again. A month ago he had been perfectly fine, before Harry had come back into his life, and now look at him. Sitting on his couch too early in the morning, thinking about things that didn’t matter anymore. Things that he’d never be able to change. 

Fucking Harry Styles. 

It was past noon by the time Niall finally got back to the house, and Louis was about ready to go crazy after the torturous morning he had reliving the past. Louis hadn’t moved much from his spot on the couch, but he was watching a different movie now and Reggie had fucked back off to his pillow a long time ago. Niall sunk down right next to him, throwing his legs over Louis’ lap and leaning back into the pillows. 

“Ello, sweet cheeks.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, determined to bring himself out of this funk he’s been in all day. “How’s it hangin’, Tiger Woods?” 

Niall cackled. “You missed a great game! One of me best in a while, I’ll say.” 

“I’m sure.” Louis rolled his eyes, letting his arms rest overtop Niall’s ankles that were spread across his lap. 

“Didja have a nice morning?” Niall asked and Louis has to stop himself from laughing out loud because _really?!_ He had been sitting there torturing himself for hours about things he shouldn’t be thinking about. Nice morning--more like _please don’t kill yourself, Louis!_ morning. 

“Yup,” Louis lied, forcing a smile onto his face and turning to show it to Niall. 

“Good! So, Harry thinks the other night went well.” 

“Jesus Christ, Neil,” Louis blurted out, shoving Niall’s legs off of him and quickly standing from the couch. He didn’t have to look back to know Niall was pouting, but really--his timing was shit. 

“Seriously!” Niall pressed on, because of course he did. “The beginning was a little awkward, sure, but I mean. Overall we both think the night went well.” 

“Yeah, because _you_ were there,” Louis said, turning around and crossing his arms, watching as Niall spun around on the sofa so that they were facing each other again. “We know how to act around each other with a buffer, remember? That’s how we haven’t killed each other over the last almost-decade. It’s that whole _what the hell do we do when we’re alone_ bit that we suck at.” 

“Okay, but Harry wants to change that,” Niall said, which, what? Louis just stared blankly at him. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yeah, bro. We talked _a lot_ today on the course and like...” Niall trailed off and Louis felt like his heart had stopped beating completely. After the morning Louis had, this was the very last thing he needed to be hearing. “Without saying too much, I can tell you that he misses you.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Louis demanded. “You can feel free to say _too much,”_ he said, using obnoxious air quotes around Niall’s own words. 

Niall rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna tell you word for word what he said and you know that. I’m friends with both of you and he trusted me.” Louis kind of hated Niall, forget the nice things he’s said about him. “But I will tell you that he misses you and he wouldn’t mind, you know. Getting to know you again.” 

Getting to know him again? What the fuck did that even mean? 

“So _maybe,”_ Niall said, standing up and slapping a hand down on Louis’ shoulders, “you should stop being such a twat about everything and just think about it.” Louis blinked at Niall, taking in everything he had said and playing it over again in his mind. Niall smiled brightly at him and then leaned in to place a smacking kiss on Louis’ left cheek. “Just food for thought. Speaking of, I’m ravished, I’m gonna go raid your fridge.” 

And just like that, Niall left the room, leaving Louis alone again with his thoughts, which was definitely a horrible idea. Louis just stood there dumbly, looking down at his feet and trying to picture what their conversation had looked like on the golf course. 

Seriously, _fuck_ Harry Styles.  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday everybody! Thank you so much for reading! I'm so happy to bring Niall's character further into this story. I always fall in love with writing Niall and end up loving his side character role almost as much as I love Louis and Harry's. Probably because I love _actual_ Niall so much... but that's beyond the point. Anyway, what'd you guys think? I'd love to know! 
> 
> The next chapter is a _huge_ boy, sitting at 24k, and it's still one of my favorite parts of this whole story. I decided to post it all as one instead of breaking it up (even though it's _massive_ ) because it all happens over the course of a day. I can't wait for you to read it! I feel like that's when the story really starts to take off and it's jam-packed with OT3 interactions. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everybody who read the last chapter and a huge extra shoutout to those of you that left me awesome feedback! You made my day! Seriously. I'm totally easy when it comes to reviews. I'll take anything. 
> 
> Have a great weekend! 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	3. Part Three

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/91bd6377d4ea2c8a1322e755f24b1907/tumblr_inline_osiisp0f2n1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
Since moving to America two years ago, Louis has come to love a lot of things about it ( _WTF M8?!_ list aside) but one of his favorite things had to be the holidays. Though he still wasn’t quite sure of the backstory on Thanksgiving, because nobody was offering that up in conversation and he couldn’t be arsed to Google it, he was _positive_ that he enjoyed the food.

Because a whole day devoted just to food? (As far as he knew, at least. Seriously, what the fuck did the Americans do way back when that made this such a hush-hush holiday and instead focused on the food?) 

His first year here, his neighbors had invited him over to their Thanksgiving dinner and Louis had been _completely_ overwhelmed by the table of food as soon as he arrived. Because this was an actual thing that happened and wasn’t just for show on the telly. If it was appropriate to pop a boner over a table full of food (spoiler alert: _it isn’t),_ Louis would have popped the most raging, throbbing food-boner of all time. 

Because seriously, Americans fucking loved their Thanksgiving food. 

Even if they put marshmallows in the yams. _(WTF M8?!)_

But after Louis had his first real Thanksgiving experience, he was certain that no matter where life decided to take him, he would always come back in November just so that he could crash somebody’s Thanksgiving dinner. He would also remind himself that _under no circumstances_ would it ever be acceptable to get a woody when someone muttered the words _pumpkin pie._

He was twenty-nine after all, he could control his hormones.

Mmm, pumpkin pie...

But today wasn’t Thanksgiving--it was the 4th of July. Louis maybe, kind of, _probably_ should be morally outraged, considering this holiday was celebrating America’s independence from… the British… _but hear him out!_ Maybe it was just a small town thing, or maybe they did this all across America, but Chance went all out for the 4th of July. 

The whole town was decorated for the occasion. 

The streets were lined with red, white and blue banners and streamers. The lamp posts were adorned with flags that had images of exploding fireworks that read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, AMERICA!” on them. Everybody had flags somewhere on their property, whether it be on a flagpole or stuck directly in the ground outside their porches. 

The air would be filled with the smell of burning charcoal and roasting hotdogs, and it seemed like no matter where you went, all you could hear was the sound of children playing and adults mingling. The whole town got together to celebrate in the large park for a potluck meal and activities, and if you were a resident of Chance, _you were expected to be there._

Everybody was welcome and they made sure you felt that way.

That’s how Louis and Niall found themselves walking down Louis’ gravel road, making their way towards the community park and ready to take part in the festivities of the day. They had decided to go all out, because again--Louis wasn’t one to do things by halves, and Niall was just the greatest sport to ever live--so they had made a late night Walmart run the night before to try and find the most American outfits they could. 

If only their fans could have known that one day, Louis and Niall would be in a rural North Carolina Walmart at two in the morning, scrounging through stacks of gaudy patriotic shirts looking for the most obnoxious one to wear. The absolute meltdowns that would have occurred back in the day. 

Louis looked down at the bright red shirt he was wearing, the image on the front being of an exploding firework with an American flag in the background, big chunky black letters reading out: “PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN” which, really, how could Louis have resisted? Louis then looked over at Niall, whose grey shirt had an image of Uncle Sam on it, pointing his finger and reading out “I WANT YOU… TO BEER ME!” on it, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh. 

They looked like a bunch of twats. 

“We look like a bunch of twats,” Louis laughed, shoving Niall’s shoulder as they walked. 

Niall threw his head back and laughed. “I fuckin’ love it!” Louis shook his head, directing the two of them down the next road, the park only a few blocks away from his house so they had decided to walk. The heat, as usual, was absolutely scorching and they were both already sweating even though they’d been outside for a total of ten minutes. 

In both of their hands they held giant containers of pre-made side dishes that they picked up from the Pig Wig after their Walmart trip the night before. Louis had forgotten until last minute, of course, that the whole gathering was potluck style and everybody was expected to contribute to the food. Not that Louis would have made anything anyway, because he was the _worst_ in the kitchen, but he could have at least picked up something better than these. 

Americans loved to call things salads when, in fact, they had _nothing_ to do with salad. Usually there was mayonnaise involved because, again, _America._ Potato salad, egg salad, macaroni salad, _Jello_ salad--Louis would never understand why they were called salad but everyone around here seemed to lose their fucking minds for it. So he and Niall had loaded up a Pig Wig basket with the pre-made “salads” and had called it a night. 

They chatted as they made the rest of the walk, talking loudly over the different sounds of bugs chirping and cicadas calling from the woods next to them. As they got closer to the park where the whole community was gathered, the sounds from the woods were drowned out by the sounds of children laughing and Top 40 radio coming from the speakers set up around the park. 

“Hi boys!” Tammy Hallstatter greeted them, pushing a lock of her blonde hair over her shoulder. Tammy Hallstatter owned the bookshop in town--with the help of her husband and their two teenage children-- and had been one of the first people Louis had met after moving to Chance. They lived at the end of his block and Tammy had gone out of her way to make Louis feel welcome here. She had introduced him to everyone in town and didn’t find out about his ex-celebrity status for almost six months. 

She had slapped him on the back of his head when she found out. “How dare you keep such a secret from me!” Louis rolled his eyes just at the memory. Tammy was in her mid-fifties and was one of the sweetest people Louis had ever met, even if she ragged on him every once in a while for trying to keep One Direction a secret when he first moved. 

“Hello, my darling,” Louis greeted, smiling brightly at her and accepting the quick hug she offered up, even with his hands full of not-salads. “This is me best mate, Niall,” he said, nodding over at Niall who was quick to transfer both tubs of not-salads into one hand so he could offer up the other to shake. “Flew him all the way in for the occasion!” 

“Wonderful! The more, the merrier!” Tammy laughed, ignoring Niall’s attempt at a handshake and pulling him into a hug instead. Louis really did love this town. 

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” Niall announced proudly, standing back and smiling with his teeth showing. They all stood back as a group of kids playing tag ran through them, Louis laughing after Tammy had yelled for them to watch where they were going. 

“Are you the Niall that was in Louis’ band?” Tammy asked, smiling at the two of them.

“The one and only!” Niall responded happily, slinging his arm around Louis’ shoulders and pulling him into his side. 

“Well I’ll be damned!” Tammy said, her jaw dropping and bringing her hands up to rest on her waist. “It’s a One Direction reunion!” 

Louis fondly rolled his eyes at his neighbor. “Tammy, my love, please don’t!” He laughed along with Niall, watching as she flitted her eyes between the two of them, her jaw still dropped in mock surprise. 

“I’m sorry, but when is this little ol’ town ever going to get three members of One Direction in it at the same time ever again? You boys will have to perform something for us!” And--wait. _Three_ members? Oh god, does that mean… 

Before Louis could even finish processing what she had said, Harry’s stupid voice sounded from somewhere behind him and he almost got whiplash from turning his head around so fast. “Ello, lads! Enjoying the weather?” Louis watched with narrowed eyes as Harry sauntered over to them, with his stupid cargo shorts and his stupid Harley Davidson shirt and--oh god. He had that fucking American flag [b](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/64/c4/93/64c493ce6e939735b3bdfbdd891260a9.jpg)andana wrapped around his head like he used to when they were together and _Louis had to get the fuck out of here._

“‘Arry! I didn’t know you’d be here!” Niall cackled, dropping his arm from around Louis and slinging it over Harry’s shoulders instead. What a traitor. And, did they always have to greet each other like it’s been years? They just went golfing two days ago! “This day just keeps getting better and better!” 

Speak for yourself, Horan. 

“I’ll say!” Tammy piped up. “Harry, sweetie, did you find those--ah! Perfect!” she said, and Louis watched with a confused expression as Harry handed over a pair of grey scissors and--what the fuck? She had him running errands? They knew each other like that? They were _there?_

Louis couldn’t help but wonder again what he did to piss God off so much.

He had tried to be a good person, but he had clearly failed. 

“I told Tom I’d help him fire up the grills,” Harry told her, smiling brightly at Tammy with his arm still around Niall’s shoulders. Louis should be shocked that Harry blended in so easily, but then again… he shouldn’t be. Because Harry Styles was fucking perfect. And this stupid perfect town welcomed everybody. Fuck, Louis really needed to get away from him. Just as Louis turned to stalk off, go find one of the drink coolers and drown himself in it, Harry directed his voice at him. 

“Hey, Lou.” Because Harry Styles would never be rude and ignore him. “Is that potato salad?” he asked, looking down at the sweating oversized containers in Louis’ hands. “I _love_ potato salad!” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at him, that stupid bandana staring right at Louis like a big sign that said _Remember when you used to tie this for him?_

Fuck. 

“I’m gonna go--find a drink.” Louis said, pointing a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the coolers. “And find somewhere to put these,” he said, nodding down at his arms full of not-salads. 

“I’ll come with,” Niall said, dropping his arm from around Harry but not before pinching his side and making him laugh. Louis definitely wasn’t drunk enough for this. Drunk _at all._ It wasn’t until they were a safe distance away that Niall nudged his shoulder, causing him to look over. “Are you okay?” 

Louis sighed dramatically. “Yes.” 

Niall grinned. “Are you sure?” 

No. “Yes,” Louis said, forcing a smile on his face. No matter how much of a breakdown he was having on the inside, he didn’t want to ruin Niall’s day. And if he told Niall that _no, I’m definitely not o-fucking-kay,_ then Niall would have insisted they go celebrate somewhere else. Because really, Louis couldn’t say this enough, Niall was the best. But this was the only place in town to celebrate the holiday, and if they left they’d end up having a boring night back at Louis’ house. 

Then again, they’d be Harry Styles-less, but. 

Louis would make do. 

For Niall. Nothing else. Right. 

They made a quick stop at the food tables to drop off their side dishes before heading over to the drink coolers, which were in the middle of the picnic tables that were all draped in plastic table cloths and of course alternating between red, white and blue because--America. Louis crouched down in front of one and grabbed two drinks out of them, handing one over to Niall before looking around the place. 

Over on the other side, he could see the grills starting to smoke as they were lit and Harry was, of course, in the middle of it all. He was currently pouring a bag of charcoal into one of the black grills, laughing at something that Tom, Tammy’s aforementioned husband, was saying to him. 

Being perfect. Being helpful. 

Fuck, Louis was _so fucked._

There was a softball field at the far end of the park and there seemed to be some sort of game going, people filling the stands and cheering on their respective teams. It was clearly a pickup game because nobody was wearing jerseys and it looked like disorganized chaos, but it made Louis smile anyway. There was a wooden structure that covered the food tables, to either provide shade or shelter from rain, and it was only half past eleven in the morning but already most of the town was here. 

The next thirty minutes or so were spent introducing Niall to everyone, because as one of the only outsiders, he definitely stood out. Not to mention his Irish accent, which had everyone obsessed with him out of the gate. Louis missed being the only one with the _“cool”_ accent. He had somehow avoided Harry for most of those thirty minutes, but of course that wouldn’t last because Louis was watching as Harry made his way towards them right now. 

“Lads,” Harry said, grinning at them with his stupid dimple on display. Louis really hated that fucking dimple. That stupid, charming dimple. Fuck. “Havin’ a good time so far?” 

“This is the craic!” Niall replied instantly and Louis couldn’t help but snort. 

“So I was reading over the list of games later,” Harry said, unfolding a flyer that had been stuffed into the pockets of his khaki cargo shorts and _where did he even get those from?_ What happened to the designer clothes he had been wearing before? Louis couldn’t help but note that this outfit seemed to suit him better, in Chance at least, but still-- _was he trying to kill Louis?_ Harry grinned at the two of them, resting his hands on his hips. “And I was wonderin’ if either of you would sign up for the three-legged race with me?” And-- _no._ Absolutely not. Not if they were the last two people on earth and it was required in order to save the human race from going extinct. 

There was no way that Louis was going to willingly sign up to be _tied to Harry Styles_ for any amount of time. Just no. This was not happening. The panic must be clear on his face, because Harry’s smirk slowly disappeared. But what had he been expecting? Did he really think Louis was going to jump at the chance? Honestly.

Louis took a deep breath in, ready to say something smart back to him, when Niall beat him to it. 

“Fuckin’ right! Let’s show these people how it’s _done!”_ Niall exclaimed, which caused Harry’s grin to sneak back onto his face. Louis watched as Harry and Niall high fived, instantly going into a strategy session and _how was this Louis’ life?_ Louis swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, watching as Harry and Niall huddled close together and discussed different race techniques and--did they realize this was just a bloody three-legged race?! This wasn’t the Silverstone Grand Pri[x](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_Grand_Prix)! 

“So the first thing we have going for us is that you’re left-handed,” Harry told Niall. 

“How does that help us?” 

“Because, when we’re tied together like this”--Harry pressed up close against Niall’s side--“we can both utilize our strong sides. My right leg will be free, your left leg will be free. We just have to drag these stumps along with us,” Harry laughed, reaching down and slapping a hand over their pressed together legs that would be bound later on. 

Louis blinked furiously, not believing what he was seeing. “You lot realize this is a bullshit race, right?” Louis spoke up before he could think better of it. Harry frowned over at him, Niall wearing a similar expression and-- _what?_ Louis was just stating the obvious. “Is the strategizing necessary?” 

“Um. Yeah?” Niall said, giving Louis a dumb look. “We can’t look like amateurs out there!” 

“Go big or go home, right?” Harry grinned over at Niall, still standing right up on him. 

“Fuckin’ right!” Niall cackled. “Come on, let’s go sign our names up!” 

“We have to think of a team name!” Harry said as they were walking away from Louis. What the fuck had just happened? Suddenly Louis realized that he was now standing there all alone looking like a massive twat. He sighed loudly, following along behind them with a pinched expression. Harry and Niall were laughing about something in front of him but Louis stared down at his feet as he followed along.

He couldn’t help but think about how differently things would be if he and Harry were still together, which--what the fuck? Where did that come from? But back when they had been together, they often referred to themselves as the Dream Team, because they’d team up and pull pranks on people all the time. During all their Fifa tourneys on the bus, they’d always be on the same team. (Which was good for Harry, really, because he was always absolutely _dreadful_ at the game.) 

If he and Harry were anything at all to each other anymore, and the thought of being tied to Harry Styles didn’t make Louis physically ill, he knew that they would have totally crushed the competition. They had been so in sync at one point that they could have won without even having to practice. 

But they weren’t anything to each other. 

And the thought of being tied to Harry _did_ make Louis want to die. 

So, there was that. 

Louis sighed quietly to himself, bypassing where Harry and Niall were debating team names and making his way over to the picnic tables. He grabbed a bottle of water out of one of the coolers before sitting down at an empty table, cracking the bottle open and taking a long drag of it. Fuck it was hot outside. Louis took another sip before twisting the cap back on the water bottle, setting it down on the plastic blue table cloth and staring at it. 

“‘Sup, Mr. T?” Louis was broken from his thoughts when Jamie sat down next to him, setting a paper plate down on the table that was overflowing with crisps. Louis grinned over at Jamie before stealing one of the crinkle-cut crisps and popping it in his mouth. “What’re you doin’ over here all alone?” 

“Just thinking,” Louis responded, popping another crisp into his mouth. 

“‘Bout what?” Jamie pressed, dipping one of the crisps into the dip smeared on one side of the plate before taking a bite. Louis took a deep breath in through his nose, not knowing how to respond to Jamie’s question because--how would he even begin to explain the horror story that was his life now? Louis chuckled, though nothing was funny, before shrugging helplessly and busying himself by stealing another one of Jamie’s crisps. 

“You participating in any of the games?” Louis asked, pointedly changing the subject.

Jamie narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, the subject change not going unnoticed, before he went on to list the different games he’d be taking part in. Chance really did go all out when it came to their 4th of July celebration, and the flyers with a long list of activities had gone out to all the residents last month. 

Louis chuckled along to Jamie’s story that he had gone into, telling him about the time he had signed up for the hot dog eating contest to try and impress a girl, not realizing that shoving thirty hot dogs in your mouth in under five minutes was probably the least attractive thing you could do. But Louis couldn’t help but let his eyes travel over to where Harry and Niall stood, Harry nodding along to something that Niall was saying before he threw his head back and laughed that stupid laugh of his. 

Even if Louis couldn’t physically hear it right now, he knew exactly how it sounded in his mind. 

“And so there I am, pukin’ into a trash can next to the stage, watching as hot dog after hot dog just--bro, are you even listening to me?” Louis was shook from his thoughts at the end of Jamie’s sentence and he turned his attention back to him. 

“I--yeah. Of course I am.” 

“Liar,” Jamie laughed. “Shame, too. I’m a damn good story teller.” 

“Sorry,” Louis chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m a bit… distracted today.” Louis let his eyes travel over Jamie’s shoulder again, watching as Harry and Niall stood pressed up against each other again, pointing down at their legs and assumably discussing how they’d move their legs once they were tied together. Jamie looked over his shoulder, following Louis’ gaze for a moment before turning back. 

“Ah. I shoulda known,” Jamie said, causing Louis to turn his attention back to him. 

Louis furrowed his eyebrows. “Shoulda known what?” 

“I’m not stupid, Mr. T,” Jamie laughed, tossing another crisp into his mouth and smirking at Louis as he chewed. Louis eyebrows furrowed deeper, not understanding what Jamie was talking about. “Last time we talked, when you were all tweaked? After the kids’ game? You said you had run into an old ‘somebody’ and that it had ruined your weekend, or summin,’” Jamie explained and Louis’ heart rate picked up, not knowing where this was going. “Then your other bandmate shows up outta the blue and makes himself cozy ‘round town.” 

“You know that’s…?” 

“Bro,” Jamie laughed, “I’m not a hundred years old. I know who Harry Styles is.” 

“Oh,” Louis says dumbly. He picked his water bottle back up and twisted the cap off, needing to busy himself with something so that he wouldn’t end up saying something he shouldn’t. 

“You know, the internet has an interesting theory about the two of you...” Jamie trailed off, just as Louis choked on his water and it went spluttering out of his mouth and down his chin. Louis coughed loudly and Jamie slapped him on the back, laughing at him. “Take it easy there, killer!” Jamie giggled, still slapping Louis on the back long after he stopped choking. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, wiping his chin on his arm before thumping his forehead down on the table. 

“It’s cool, bro,” Jamie said and Louis squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “I mean, that you’re-- _you know._ I don’t care,” Jamie continued, and Louis tilted his head to the side and peered up at Jamie, who just shrugged down at him as a response. Louis still felt like he was choking on air. “I don’t know if you’re like, out--or whatever, but don’t let the stereotype about small southern towns stop you. I don’t think anybody in Chance would have a problem with it.” Louis didn’t know what to think, just kept blinking up at Jamie while his sweaty forehead rested on the sticky plastic table cloth. 

“And if they did,” Jamie continued, smirking at Louis, “fuck ‘em. I got your back. Me and the other guys from the soccer team, we’d kick their asses for you.” 

And that was--possibly one of the sweetest things Louis had heard in a while. Louis found himself getting choked up, though he forced himself to shake it off because he refused to get emotional about it, but it was still so nice to hear even after all these years of being out. 

Louis never _officially_ came out to the world, to their fans or to the general public, but he figured he was as out as he’d ever be. He didn’t deny it when people asked (not that it happened very often, because it’s not like he ever put himself out there), all of his friends and family knew and had known for a long time. But the thought of ever sending out a tweet that said “Hey, world! BTW I’m gay!” still made his blood run cold. 

There was a difference from being out in real life, and out in celebrity life where millions of people would know. Louis was one hundred percent fine with people in his everyday life knowing he was gay, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be fine coming out to the whole world. 

Louis sat up straight, clearing his throat before genuinely smiling at Jamie. “Thank you,” he finally said, his voice betraying him and cracking a bit. “That was really nice of you to say.” 

“No problem.” Jamie shrugged, going back to eating his crisps as if he hadn’t just plot-twisted Louis’ whole day. Louis swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, replaying Jamie’s words over and over again in his mind, and it seemed to change something in Louis. Motivate him, or something. It was like suddenly he opened his eyes and realized that… _he was pouting at a picnic table_ while Harry and Niall were having a good time. 

And--why? Why was Louis sitting over here? Just because he didn’t know how to interact with Harry? 

Louis had always looked forward to all the stupid American holidays because they were always over the top in this town. _His_ town. His town that accepted him for who he was and was filled with amazing people like Jamie who made him feel so loved and welcomed. He shouldn’t ruin his 4th of July just because Harry was here. This was _his fucking town,_ damn it! He was going to have a good day today, no matter what the universe decided to throw at him.

Including his stupid ex-boyfriend with his stupid perfect body. 

“Thanks again, Jame,” Louis said, smiling and slapping a hand down on Jamie’s back as he stood from the picnic table. 

“No problem, Lou _ee._ Don’t think I’m not gonna kick your ass in the penalty kick comp later, though.”

“You’re on!” Louis laughed, squeezing Jamie’s shoulder once before heading off towards the sign up table where the other two were still strategizing. Louis kept his eyes locked on Harry, who was in the middle of telling Niall something while gesturing wildly with his hands, his stupid tattoos seemingly glowing in the sunlight. The tattoos that had _Louis_ mixed in with all of them. 

Louis was suddenly hit by how many new tattoos of Harry’s he had probably never seen. 

He shook his head, knowing that now was _definitely_ not the time to start thinking about their tattoos. He was on a mission, after all. He cleared his throat when he got within earshot of the two, who immediately snapped their heads over to look at him. “So,” Louis said, stopping in front of them and resting his hands on his waist, “are you lads ready to get your arse kicked in the egg race? Because, I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’m fucking _amazing_ at balancing eggs on spoons.” 

Louis watched as Harry’s grin spread across his face, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip though it did nothing to contain his smirk, and it kind of took Louis’ breath away. 

“Yeah fuckin’ right, Tommo! Your balance is shit!” Niall cackled. “I’m gonna beat you _so hard!”_

“Fuck that!” Louis shot back easily, because yes. Right. He knew how to banter with Niall. “I’ve got the homecourt advantage, remember? I’ve done this two years in a row now! You’re a bloody _noob.”_

“Fuck your homecourt advantage!” Niall exclaimed, lunging for Louis and pulling him into another headlock, which quickly turned into a wrestling match between the two of them because they would never outgrow this--they would always be reduced to a bunch of children when they were together for an extended period of time. Louis really loved Niall. 

“Alright, alright, alright,” Harry’s voice cut through their wrestling match, causing Niall and Louis to slowly pull apart from each other, though not before Louis quickly pointed at his eyes and then to Niall’s in a classic _I’m watching you_ move. “I think you lads are forgetting something,” he said, with his stupid low voice that made goosebumps pop up on Louis’ skin, despite the heat. 

“What’s that, Haz?” Niall asked, still panting slightly after their scrap. 

Harry’s eyes switched back and forth between the two of them, and Louis watched as he readjusted that fucking bandana around his head before finally saying, “I used to work in a bakery.” And-- _what?_ Louis’ jaw slowly dropped because he was pretty sure there wasn’t a soul left in this _world_ who didn’t know he worked at a bakery at one point, but more than that, _what?_ What the hell did that have to do with _anything?_

Niall laughed loudly and Louis bit back a smirk. “Harry,” Niall said, shaking his head while laughing. “I--don’t even know where the hell you’re going with this.” Which seemed to only make Harry smile wider, as if he had been expecting their confusion.

Louis watched that stupid dimple appear on Harry’s cheek as he shrugged a knowing shoulder, lifting his eyebrow at them. “A _bakery._ Where there were lots of _eggs._ And _spoons._ Not to brag or anything, but, I was kind of made for this competition,” Harry said and then, in a move that was completely out of character and unexpected, he brushed his shoulder off. 

What. The. Fuck. 

Before Louis could control it, he burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that he had to bend over and brace his hands against his knees, which caused Niall to laugh along with him and Harry to give a defensive “Heeeeyyy.” 

“I’m sorry,” Louis said around his uncontrollable chuckles, looking back up at Harry who was pouting at him, his plump bottom lip jutted out and his eyes downcast. “Really--I just. _Harry,”_ Louis laughed, bringing his hands up in the air in a confused manner, “you’re the most uncoordinated human on this planet.”

Harry pouted harder. 

“You trip over nothing!” Louis pointed out, still chuckling and shaking his head. “Your limbs are too long for you to control them properly. Which, I hate to point out, but limb-control is a requirement in an egg race.”

Harry fish mouthed at him a few times, Niall just laughing along beside the two, and Louis could tell that Harry was trying hard to keep up his pouting act. But just like he had expected, a grin attempted to breakout on Harry’s face, his lip twitching as he scrunched his nose up to keep it at bay. “Just admit it.” Louis grinned, feeling dangerous with how they were bantering back and forth, but he refused to stop and think about it. He was going to have a good day, remember? “You suck at basic human functions.”

“Do you remember that one time you [t](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n4C8Bn1H5uw)ripped on stage?” Niall cut in, causing Harry’s eyes to tear away from Louis and look over at Niall. 

_“One time?!”_ Louis gasped out, laughing loudly again because Harry fell over more than anybody else had. Which was a great argument towards his case; he should point that out. 

“Good point, Tommo,” Niall laughed loudly, elbowing Louis in the side and Harry pouted at them again. 

“Heeeeyyyy. You’re not being very nice to me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest to further his pout. 

“That one time that was really bad, though,” Niall continued, ignoring Harry’s protest, “where you were walking and then stumbled back and _bam!”_ Niall clapped his hands together to emphasize where Harry fell, demonstrating what had happened along with his story, then went into another round of wheezing laughter. Louis laughed along with him, the memory floating through his brain like a freight train. 

On The Road Again Tour: San Diego. 

_How the hell did Louis remember that?_

Louis quickly shook it off. “Right. So my point stands,” he said, biting down on his bottom lip as he grinned back at Harry. Harry made eye contact with him, their eyes locking together for what felt like the first time in forever--which was ridiculous, because they had definitely made eye contact just a few seconds ago--but this time felt different. Louis watched as Harry’s expression melted into a fond smile and he realized that they were just standing there, smiling at each other like a pair of idiots. 

Louis’ cock twitched in his shorts. 

What the fuck? 

Louis took a step back, quickly looking away from Harry and blinking rapidly over at Niall, his heart sputtering in his chest as he tried to think of anything but his dick. Louis was aware of life going on around him, of Harry saying something to Niall about his fall in San Diego, Niall having a sassy comeback right away and then the two of them laughing, but Louis was currently having another breakdown because _no._

He wouldn’t let his cock remember Harry Styles existed. No. Absolutely not. 

_Dead kittens, dead kittens, dead kittens._

“--Right, Tommo?” 

“Right!” Louis agreed with Niall too quickly, too franticly, especially because he had no idea what the hell he just agreed to.

“Perfect!” Niall cheered, pumping his fist in the air and wait. What the fuck did Louis just agree to? He was about to ask, but then remembered why he had been zoned out of their conversation and thought better of it. He couldn’t explain himself. He would figure out what he had just agreed to eventually, if it was something important. “I’ll go sign us up!” And-- _okay what the fuck did he just agree to?_

Niall jogged off, leaving Harry and Louis standing there by themselves. Louis stared hard at the back of Niall’s head, watching him as he jogged over to the table that held all the sign-up sheets for the games. What in the hell did he just agree to? As if reading his mind, because _ugh, of course,_ Harry’s deep voice said, “Pie eating contest? Really, Lou?”

_Pie eating contest?!_

Louis gawked at Harry, fishmouthing at him with wide eyes because _what the fuck?_ Harry’s head tilted back as he let out a loud laugh, bringing his hand up to cover his stupid laughing mouth, causing Louis to snap his own shut and glare at him. 

“I knew you weren’t listening!” Harry said, smiling with all of teeth showing and pointing an accusing finger at Louis. Louis glared harder at him. “What had you so preoccupied then, hmm?” Harry smirked, his tone cheeky as he cocked his hip and crossed his arms over his chest. Louis felt all the blood rushing to his cheeks in a furious blush and--fuck. He had to get out of there; _now._

“I--what? Nothing--shut up. Go away.” Louis stammered, no real heat behind the last part of his statement. He brought his hand up to one of his burning cheeks, pointedly looking away from Harry, who was now giggling and-- _fuck_ , Louis’ life was so awful. Why was his body betraying him so much? It was acting like a prepubescent teen, blushing for no fucking reason at all. He continued to stutter out half formed sentences. “Shouldn’t you be--something? Over there--whatever. Bye,” Louis said, cheeks flaming as he quickly turned away from Harry. 

“Aw, I was just messing with you! Don’t go,” Harry said, grabbing Louis’ shoulder and _what the fuck they were touching what the fuck?_ Louis quickly whipped around, staring at Harry with wide eyes and looking down at where they were touching because _what the fuck they don’t touch!_ Harry quickly let go of Louis’ shoulder, pulling back so suddenly it was like he had been burned. “Sorry,” Harry quickly said, holding his hands tightly to himself now. 

“It’s--fine,” Louis replied, suddenly aware of how much he was sweating--had he been sweating this much the whole time? While Harry was looking away from him, Louis brought his arm up to swipe over his sweaty forehead and then stared down at their feet because _what now?_ “Um,” he said dumbly, not knowing what they were supposed to do now. Louis felt like the silence that stretched between them went on and on, how fucking long had they been standing there? 

He finally looked up at Harry, only to find him looking anywhere but at him. They needed their buffer back. Louis looked around desperately for Niall, but when he finally spotted his bright blonde hair he realized he was deep in a conversation with the brown-haired girl working the sign-up table. God damn it. They have been standing in silence for what must have been hours (okay, like a minute and a half) and Louis was slowly losing his mind. 

He looked back at Harry and was almost startled to find him already looking at him, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth and an unreadable expression on his face. Louis took a deep breath in through his nose, staring right back at Harry because _what? What the fuck was he thinking?_ Louis coughed. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Harry said, his bottom lip popping back out, full and spit slick. Louis was going to pass out. He looked past Harry again at the back of Niall’s head, willing him to stop flirting with the brunette and come rescue him from this hell he was in. Louis was so focused on the back of Niall’s head that he almost missed Harry’s mumbled “This is weird.” 

And--yeah, it was, but he wasn’t expecting Harry to say that.

This whole fucking situation was weird.

The fact Harry was in Chance was weird, and that Harry was now back in his life was fucking _weird._

But it had been weird all along and this was the first time Harry was acknowledging it. Louis didn’t know how to deal with that. He watched Harry’s eyes flicker back up to meet his and _was Louis even breathing anymore?_

Louis still hadn’t said anything, hadn’t acknowledged that Harry spoke at all, but their eyes were still locked together. “I…wish it wasn’t,” Harry murmured, pausing for a moment before looking back down at their feet. 

Louis swallowed hard. “Harry--I.” What the fuck was he supposed to say to that? 

Harry looked back up at Louis and forced a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna go find the loo.” 

“Okay,” Louis whispered, not knowing what else to do. 

This was the first time that he wished he had something better to say other than _okay_. Harry admitting that this was weird seemed like a big deal. Every other time he had been alone with Harry since he’s crawled back into his life, Louis had pointedly tried to avoid it or figure out how he could get away as fast as possible. But for some reason now he felt like he should say something, _anything._

But Louis sucks. So Harry smiled that forced smile one more time before he turned and walked off, leaving Louis standing there under the tree by himself and fuck. Louis’ head was so fucked up. He needed a smoke. Just then, Louis noticed Niall strolling back over towards him and he glared hard at the irishman. 

“Where the fuck were you ten seconds ago?!” Louis demanded as soon as Niall was in earshot.

“Wassit?” Niall asked, confusion clear on his face. 

“Oh, just the most awkward moment in history _because you left us without a buffer_ you fucking asshole,” Louis said, punching Niall hard on the shoulder. Niall winced, bringing his hand up to rub at his shoulder and frowning at Louis. 

“What the fuck was that for?!” 

“You can’t leave me alone with him!” 

“But you guys were laughing!” Niall defended himself, still rubbing his shoulder. “You were in a good mood! I thought you were getting along. My fucking shoulder!” 

“We _were_ getting along,” Louis said, still glaring at him. “Because _you_ were standing there. We can’t function when it’s just the two of us!” Louis cocked back to punch Niall again, but Niall quickly avoided it by jumping to the side. 

“Fuck off, mate!” Niall exclaimed, frowning at Louis. 

“Don’t leave us alone again!” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Niall said, jutting out his lower lip in a deep frown. Louis sighed loudly, bringing his arm up to wipe the sweat from his forehead again--Jesus, it was too fucking hot outside to be this wound up. 

“Sorry for hitting you,” Louis mumbled, staring down at his feet in shame. 

“I get a free shot at you before I leave,” Niall grumbled, letting his hand drop from his wounded shoulder. 

“Deal.” 

Niall let a puff of air leave his lungs. “The egg race starts in fifteen. Where did Harry run off to anyway?” 

“I don’t know,” Louis mumbled, kicking the dirt with the toe of his shoe, very aware of how immature he was acting but he couldn’t stop himself. Harry brought out the worst in him; that was the only explanation. “The loo, I think.” 

Niall sighed loudly, tugging Louis’ arm up and around his shoulders. “Come on then, let’s go find him,” he said, knocking his hip against Louis’ as they began their trek across the park. ”I can’t believe you hit me, you fucking dick,” Niall laughed, bumping against Louis’ hip again. “You know I bruise like a peach.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” Louis chuckled, embarrassed about his tantrum. Harry Styles was just really stressful, okay? He stared down at the ground as they walked. Niall’s arm dropped from around Louis’ shoulder as they made their way past the food tables, Niall pausing to grab a handful of pretzels before they continued on their quest. Louis took a deep breath in and held it for as long as he could, trying to remind himself that he was supposed to be having a good day. 

_No more tantrums!_

They finally found Harry, who was mid-conversation with one of the locals, George, but Niall got his attention by flailing wildly and pointing at his non-existent watch. Subtle, he was. Louis watched as Harry furrowed his eyebrows at Niall, his lip twitching to contain his smirk while he nodded along with George’s story. George had his back turned to Niall, who was now miming himself balancing an egg on a spoon, his body wobbling back and forth in an over-exaggeration of the act, and there was no way Harry was missing the scene unfolding over George’s shoulder. No matter how serious his expression was. 

Fucking Niall Horan. 

Louis brought his hand up to cover his mouth, hiding his giggles, while Harry tried desperately to keep a straight face and keep his eyes focused on George. They were standing close enough that they could hear George, who was complaining about his crops this year and how they weren’t cooperating. Niall, on the other hand, had now dropped his imaginary egg and had fallen to his knees in a silent act of despair, his hands held up to the sky, mouthing _Why God, why?!_

Niall was fucking ridiculous and it was just the thing Louis needed to get him out of his funk. 

Harry had crossed one arm over his chest, the other elbow bent on top and his fist blocking his mouth, trying to subtly hide the smirk that he was trying to keep at bay as Niall’s antics continued. “Yeah, that’s a real shame, George. I’m sorry to hear it,” Harry said, nodding sincerely at the old farmer, causing Louis to snort. Harry’s eyes darted over to Louis and suddenly his grin was so wide that even his fist couldn’t block it anymore. 

George quickly caught on and looked over his shoulder at the pair. Louis swiftly turned his back to them, both hands held tightly over his mouth to hold in his laughter, and Niall--who was still on his knees from his act--had instantly started inspecting something on the ground with great interest. “Man, they just don’t grow grass like this back home,” he muttered, staring intently down at it. Louis snorted around his hands, finally giving up all pretenses and laughing loudly, which had a domino effect on Harry and Niall who both followed suit. 

“I’m sorry, George, really,” Harry insisted, because he was always fucking polite. “You can’t take these two anywhere,” he said sternly, but Louis noted he was still smiling with all his teeth on display once he had finally turned back to face them. 

George took it in stride though, smiling at them and readjusting the strap of his denim overalls. “No problem, gents! I just missed out on the joke, that’s all. I’ll catch back up with y’all later,” he said, nodding at them before taking a few steps away. He paused by Niall’s side-- _who was still on his knees, Jesus Christ_ \--and rested his hand on Niall’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re enjoying our vegetation, son,” he said, winking over at Louis. 

Louis burst out laughing again, watching as Niall’s cheeks reddened and he looked down to the ground in shame, Harry covering his face with both hands as his shoulders shook with laughter. Louis really fucking loved this town. After that, things seemed to fall back into place. Louis’ tantrum was long forgotten and the three continued to laugh about the scene that had just unfolded, long after it should have still been funny. 

They made their way over to the soccer field (Louis would never get used to calling it that), which had been transformed into the gaming arena by roping off different sections needed for each game. They were quickly beckoned to the starting line of the egg race by Becky Williams, who was the self-appointed Game Master for the day. 

Becky was a short, stocky woman in her early thirties who was most famously known around town for her four-year-old naturally conceived identical triplets. When you first got introduced to Becky, two things happened. First, she hugged you--hopefully you don’t have a problem with that, because it doesn’t seem to be optional. Secondly, she told you she didn’t use any of that “unnatural in-vitro fertilization nonsense” and that her “tripps” were a gift from the good Lord above, praise be his name. 

She was a nice lady, really--but Louis was thankful she wasn’t his first introduction to Chance, or he might have gone running straight back across the pond. She tended to be a little… overbearing. The Americans referred to this section of the country as the “Bible [b](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bible_Belt)elt” due to the strong religious presence, and while thankfully Chance was filled with all kinds of life, a few Bible-belters had snuck their way past the city limits. 

Maybe reasoning like that was why God hated Louis so much... things were starting to make more sense now. But it’s not like Louis had a problem with religion! You do you, whatever floats your boat, whatever tickles your fancy, and all that jazz. He just had a problem with religion being _shoved down his throat,_ okay? He wasn’t a _complete_ heathen. (We cool, God?) 

The three of them made their way to the starting line, but not before trash talking each other as much as humanly possible. 

“You’re going _down,_ Horan,” Louis said, pointing at Niall while he passed him to go to his starting position. 

“Bite me, Tomlinson!” 

“You lads better get used to the back of my shirt, because that’s all you’re going to be seeing while I’m out in front!” Harry threatened, which was contradicted by the not-so-threatening smile on his face. Harry really sucked at trash talk.

“You ain’t shit, Styles!” Niall quickly responded, then gave a sheepish smile at the frowning group of mothers he was walking past and--right. There were children present. 

“Egg Race is my middle name!” Harry called back, his hands around his mouth to ensure Louis and Niall could hear him, even though they were now spread out at their different starting positions. 

“Really? I thought your middle name was _Fumbles-Worth!”_ Louis shot back and--okay. Not his best. Harry Styles does things to him, okay? 

“Or _Butter-Fingers!”_ Niall chimed in, and their trash talking was clearing turning to rubbish. 

“Or… or…” Harry stammered, trying desperately to keep their heckling going. “ _Crap,_ I’m out,” he finally said, dropping his arms to his sides in defeat and pouting, which caused them all to go into a fit of giggles. Even the other participants were chuckling along with the three, shaking their heads and commenting on their pathetic insults. 

All of the contestants were handed a plastic spoon, an egg, and a “Good luck!” from little Joy Jennings, who couldn’t have been older than six, as she bopped along the line of contestants with her pigtails bouncing right along with her. The rules of the race were simple: _don’t drop your egg._ They would balance the egg on their spoon and walk--or run, if you dared--across the field and whoever crossed the finish line first, with their egg, won. 

The prizes were still undetermined, but Louis was hoping for a Ferrari. He told this to the lad next to him, who just snorted and rolled his eyes at Louis. 

Over the chaotic sounds of the starting line, Louis still heard Harry’s voice clear as ever when he called out, _“Hey, Ricky Bobby! If you ain’t first, you’re last!”_ which--yeah, that was definitely directed at him. They had watched, and quoted, that damn movie together so many times while they were stuck on tour buses late at night. Louis slowly looked over at him, only to find Harry smiling brightly at him with glee in his eyes and nobody could blame Louis for the smile that took over his face. 

You try keeping a straight face when Harry Styles is looking at you like that. 

Louis’ heart was pounding in his chest and he forcibly swallowed the lump in his throat before parting his lips, ready to call back _“Shake and bake?!”_ but suddenly the starting gun sounded with a loud _bang!_ and Harry took off running and--what the fuck? Did Harry Styles just _sabotage_ him? Louis gawked, an embarrassing squeaking noise coming from his lungs (which was thankfully drowned out by the crowd’s cheering), before he came to his senses and darted off the starting line. 

Louis may be short, but he was definitely fast, even while precariously balancing an egg on a too-small spoon. He stared down at the wobbling egg, down at his rapidly moving feet, then chanced a look around him to try and gauge how he was doing. That was when he noticed that Harry had already dropped his egg and was pouting about it a few lanes over. That brought a wild, adrenaline filled smile to Louis’ face and he cheered loudly _\--”Oi, oi!”--_ to get Harry’s attention, before lifting up his unoccupied hand and raising his middle finger right at him, Louis’ legs still carrying him swiftly across the field. 

Harry should have been offended--should maybe have given him his notorious _heeeyyy_ or flipped him the bird right back in retaliation--but instead a fond smile quickly took over his features and--right. Louis needed to look away. He needed to focus. He was in the middle of a bloody race, for fuck’s sake. With his heart beating rapidly (totally due to exertion, nothing to do with Harry Styles), he did his best to focus on not dropping his egg but also catching up to the Speed Racer in front of him. 

His eyes travelled between the egg, his feet, and the stupid speedy lad in front, and he was pretty sure he was in second place. He wasn’t sure where Niall was, but, honestly, Niall stood no chance in Louis’ mind. He was certain Niall was behind him. The cheering of the crowd seemed to increase in volume the closer Louis and Speed Racer got to the finish line and Louis was suddenly reminded of the roar of a One Direction concert--how you could hear the crowd screaming no matter where you were, even in the bus outside of the venue--and how it used to get Louis’ adrenaline pumping so quickly. 

This crowd may have been cheering for everybody involved, or just cheering for America for all Louis knew, but in his mind all he could hear was _One Direction! One Direction! One Direction!_ and he couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, letting his mind go back to the place that had been strictly taboo for the last five years. His legs continued to carry him across the field, finally gaining some distance on Speed Racer right as the finish line was in sight when suddenly--Louis’ egg flew off his spoon and landed with a _splat_ on the grass. 

_He dropped his fucking egg._

“Nooooo!” Louis yelled, his cries of defeat getting lost in the roar of the crowd. He was _so close._ The crowd’s cheers seemed to explode as Speed Racer crossed the finish line, and as Louis’ legs stumbled him to a stop he bent forward and panted heavily, not realizing how hard he had been pushing himself for _a fucking egg race, what the fuck?_

Louis couldn’t help but let a winded laugh escape his lungs, bracing his hands on his thighs as he looked around, watching as everybody celebrated with fucking Speed Racer, that quick bastard. Louis should have tripped him. If the prize turned out to be a Ferrari, Louis would never forgive himself. Unfortunately he wouldn’t find out until later, because the prize ceremony would be held after all the games had taken place. 

It must take some time to personalize the Ferrari’s license plate, after all. 

Louis hated Speed Racer with a passion. 

Louis stood up straight, his breath finally caught, and watched as Harry and Niall made their way towards him. A few people stopped to pat Louis on the back, telling him _Good try!_ or _I thought you had it!_ Basically, everything except for _Hey Tommo, you really shit the bed out there!_ which was what really happened.

Maybe if he hadn’t been _sabotaged_ at the beginning of the race…

“Hey, fuck you!” Louis said with no real heat behind it, pointing an angry finger at Harry when they were finally close enough to hear each other. Louis’ face must have given him away though, because Harry bit back a grin and pointed at himself, mouthing _Me?_ as if he were innocent in this whole ordeal. “Yeah, you! You sabotaged me!” 

“I did no such thing,” Harry said, his tone dripping with faux innocence. 

“You’re a bloody liar!” Louis exclaimed around a laugh, and he could feel the grin that was splitting across his face growing wider by the second. “And a shit one, at that!” 

Harry cackled, his head rolling back on his shoulders as the unabashed laugh came flying out of his lungs, which only caused Louis to grin harder, despite his better judgement. Niall was looking between the two with a confused expression, but he was laughing all the same--probably from the way Harry was still cackling. “What happened?” he asked, his curiosity finally getting the best of him. 

“Harry _sabotaged_ me, that’s what happened!” 

“I--did not!” Harry choked out, his voice broken up by his laughter. “I simply gave you--words of advice!” 

“Fuck that!” Louis exclaimed, then let his eyes dart around to make sure there were no children within earshot because, apparently, the three of them couldn’t censor themselves anymore. Oops. After realizing that all the children had run to the next game that was being set up, Louis narrowed his eyes back towards Harry and said, “You played dirty, Styles!” 

“I’m so confused!” Niall shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 

“You owe me a Ferrari,” Louis said, pointing an angry finger at Harry. 

Harry’s jaw dropped, his smile still evident around it. “Excuse me?!” 

“First place prize was a Ferrari and _you_ ”--Louis pointed his finger more aggressively--” _boned_ me out of that chance! So, I’ll take my Ferrari, please. Candy Apple Red, if I get any say in it,” Louis finished, crossing his arms over his chest and letting a pleased huff of air out of his lungs. 

Before Harry could respond, Niall held his hands up flat between them and said, “ _Wait a minute._ You’re tellin’ me that they’re givin’ away _Ferraris_ at this event?!” 

“Yup,” Louis answered simply. 

“Ferraris.” 

“Did I stutter?” Louis asked, raising a mocking eyebrow but not breaking the eye contact he had with Harry, causing Harry to snort. 

“You realize that Ferraris cost, like, _half’a million pounds?!”_ Niall asked, his tone franatic and his eyes wide. 

“Yup.” 

“And they’re--just. Giving them away? Here? In this tiny buttcrack of a town?” 

“Hey, fuck you,” Louis said around a laugh, feeling defensive of his town’s honor, finally breaking his eye contact with Harry to glare over at Niall. “You said this town was _‘sick’.”_

“It _is_ sick!” Niall instantly responded, “...in a buttcrack town kinda way.” 

“What does that even mean?” Harry cut in, biting back a grin at Niall’s obvious distress. “Buttcrack of a town? How would a town be compared to a buttcrack, exactly? What are the logistics?” he questioned, his arms crossed over his chest and stroking his chin as if he were deep in thought. Louis held his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle his snickers just to keep Niall’s stress level sky-high. He was thoroughly enjoying how gullible Niall could be at times. 

“Buttcrack!” Niall exclaimed, and, out of context, Louis feared what the residents of Chance were going to think of the Irish. Louis had expected Niall to elaborate, but maybe he realized they were fucking with him because he just wordlessly glared at the two of them. Eventually, Harry broke character and grinned at Niall, who could never stay cross for long, and the three of them headed towards the food tables afterwards, agreeing they were all hungry for lunch. 

“You still owe me a Ferrari,” Louis mumbled, walking on Harry’s right side, Niall on his left. 

“Okay,” he replied easily, grinning over at Louis and--Louis heart skipped a beat, maybe, but he kept forcing all of his panicked thoughts back down. This was just banter--they could banter. It didn’t mean anything. It’s because he was in a good mood and nothing more. Because he was determined to have a good day. This didn’t _change_ anything. 

Right. 

Exactly. 

Once they were waiting in line to get to the food tables, Niall began recapping the egg race and what had happened to both Harry and him. Louis flipped his empty paper plate around in his hands--which was of course decorated patriotically-- while listening to Niall’s blatant lie of a story. “I saw Haz drop his right outta the gate and I felt bad, so--you know. I dropped mine on purpose. Out of… sympathy…” Niall trailed off. “I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed.” 

“That is a bold-faced lie and you know it!” Louis cackled, whacking Niall over the top of his head with his empty plate. 

“Aw, Niall!” Harry cooed, pulling Niall into a protective hug to defend him from Louis’ plate assaults. “You’re so sweet!” 

Louis rolled his eyes, staring blankly at the two. “He’s _clearly_ lying.” 

“Am not!” Niall said, sticking his tongue out at Louis while Harry pet his hair comfortingly. The three continued to chat and banter back and forth, Harry giving a pathetic excuse for his poor performance as well _(“I, um, thought they were hard boiled eggs? My technique was based off the intel that they were hard boiled...”),_ until it was their turn to load up their plates with food. 

The three went through the food line, filling their gaudy paper plates with enough food to feed a whole army before finding an empty picnic table towards the back. They set their full, heavy plates down on the plastic red table cloth before Harry went off to grab drinks and Niall went back because he forgot mustard for his burger. Which left Louis to watch over their plates and make sure the birds didn’t get to them.

That was fine--he would happily stand guard here in the shade. 

He sat himself down next to Niall’s empty spot, relieved that Harry had put his plate down on other side of the picnic table. He was ready to banter with him, maybe, but he wasn’t ready to sit next to him and maybe, possibly, _accidentally_ brush elbows or something equally as horrific. Louis’ eyes widened just at the thought.

He glanced down at his watch, noting that it was almost two and that he would need to run back home at some point to let Reggie out. Poor old bloke couldn’t hold his bladder for very long anymore, and Louis didn’t feel like cleaning up a mess tonight. He also made a mental note to grab a pair of sunglasses from home because _Jesus Christ, this sun._ Louis wiped the sweat from his forehead again, glad to at least be in the shade for a little while, and then looked up when Harry set three bottles of water down on the table in front of him. 

“Thanks,” Louis said, reaching out to grab one while Harry sat himself down on the other side. 

Louis cracked the water bottle and took a long sip, his eyes moving from Harry over to Niall’s empty spot and--they were bufferless. Okay, don’t panic, this was totally fine, they’d been fine all day. He owed him a Ferrari, remember? This was not going to get weird. Louis looked back at Harry and noted that he was staring down hard at his plate. Louis kept drinking the cold water, even though he was running out of air. 

Yup. This was weird. 

Instantly weird. 

Fuck. 

“Louis, um--” Harry stammered, finally looking up from his plate to make eye contact with an internally panicking Louis. _This is fine, you’re fine, everything is totes fine._ “Before Niall gets back, I just wanted to say--like, um,” Harry stumbled, his words coming out slower than ever and his mouth hanging open as he tried to piece together what he wanted to say and _Louis was fucking dying._ Everything was _totes horrible!!!!!!_ “I’m sorry for--” 

“All I could find was fucking _honey mustard,_ what the fuck? What kind of American barbeque doesn’t have good old fashioned yellow mustard? Seriously, Louis, who organized this shit-fest--oh. Am I… interrupting something?” 

Louis could _kill_ Niall. 

Seriously. He had a plastic knife sitting _right there,_ he could easily just turn and stick it right-- 

“No, uh, you’re not. Honey mustard, hmm? That’s… weird. Did you check”--Harry coughed--”on the far table? Where the, um, napkins and things were?” 

_Fucking Niall Horan!_

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, twisting the cap back on his water bottle with shaky hands. What had Harry been about to say? To apologize for? Louis could think of a list of things he could potentially be apologizing for, but how would he ever narrow it down? There was no context! Damn you, Niall Horan! Damn you straight to hell! 

“Yeah, I checked over there, and over by the grills, and I even asked this one lady--who was wearin’ the ugliest hat, by the way--and she said that it was over on this _other_ table. So then I went over there and--why are you glarin’ at me, mate?” And--oh. That was directed at him. 

“No reason,” Louis said, quickly looking away and back down to his untouched plate. Niall shrugged it off easily, continuing on with his stupid story about mustard and tables, and Louis focused on getting his pulse back under control. He was fine, everything was fine. He just had to remember how to breathe and later he would ask Harry what he wanted to apologize for. 

Yes. Perfect plan, mate. Top notch. 

Except, Louis’ strict Never Be Alone with Harry Styles policy kind of prevented that. But maybe he could make an exception, or else he might actually die of curiosity. Louis sighed quietly to himself, shaking out his shoulders and trying to get back to the mindset he had before. He picked up his plastic fork and stabbed at the potato not-salad on his plate and then popped it in his mouth. 

Seriously, this was just potatoes and mayonnaise--what the hell, America? 

He swallowed the bite of not-salad, rolling his tongue around in his mouth for a bit, considering, then-- _bloody hell, that was delicious._ He happily took another bite of the _so totally justified_ salad and chewed while tuning back into Harry and Niall’s conversation. “So I think after this, we should lounge around for a bit and wait for the food coma to subside, then our next game is at four. The sack race,” Niall said, picking up his hotdog and taking an incredibly large bite out of it. 

“The sack race?” Louis questioned, peering over at Niall. “When the hell did we sign up for the sack race?” 

“Oh,” Niall said, grinning manically over at Louis. “I signed us up for _everything_.”

Louis spluttered around his (food boner worthy) potato salad. “You _what?!_ ” he exclaimed, looking away from Niall and over at Harry, trying to gauge his reaction. Had he known about this?! They locked eyes and Harry simply shrugged, taking another bite of his corn on the cob while switching his eyes back over to Niall. 

_Fucking Niall Horan!!!!!_

“The sack race, the football kick thing--” 

“Now, now, Niall. We’re in _America._ Don’t you mean _soccer?”_ Harry asked sarcastically, wiping his mouth on one of the equally as tacky 4th of July napkins before going back to his corn on the cob. Niall flipped him the bird, causing all three of them to chuckle, before he continued listing off everything he had signed them up for. As it turned out, _he literally had signed them up for everything,_ even something called _Smell You Later!_ which, really, had to be horrible based on the name alone. 

“Why in the world would you do that?” Louis asked, picking up his hot dog and taking a bite out of the end. 

Niall shrugged. “Got caught up in the moment.” 

“More like the hot girl working the booth told you to sign up for everything,” Louis retorted. 

“Maybe.” Niall grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry snorted, setting his finished cob down on his plate and taking a long sip of water. Louis was totally _not_ watching his Adam’s apple moving back and forth or anything. Nope. 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Louis asked, tearing his eyes away from Harry and giving Niall a knowing look. 

“Sure do,” Niall replied easily. “Love me some Lilian. Actually, here, take a pic of me goin’ to town on this hot dog, wouldja? I’ll make a dick joke out of it to her,” Niall said, reaching into his pocket and sliding his now-greasy iPhone over to Louis. 

“Charming,” Louis laughed, but took the picture anyway because who was he to deny that request?

“My hands are covered in weiner juice,” Niall said casually, causing both Harry and Louis to chuckle, because they were five years old, apparently. “Can you type, um… oh, I got it”--he paused to chuckle--”text her, _Does this make you miss my sausage?”_

“Jesus Christ, Niall,” Louis laughed, rolling his eyes because _what the hell kind of relationship did they even have?_ “What’s your passcode?” 

“1234,” he whispered, causing both Harry and Louis to stop what they were doing and look over at him. 

“You’re kidding,” Harry said, blinking rapidly at him, a spoonful of sugary baked beans _(WTF M8?!)_ halfway to his mouth. 

“Please tell me your password isn’t _password,_ right?” Louis winced. No wonder why Niall’s Twitter got hacked more than any of the other lads’ back in the day. Niall shrugged, grinning happily around a mouthful of weiner, nodding back at his phone to remind Louis he had a job to do. Louis shook his head, a breathy laugh coming out due to the absurdity of the whole thing. He pulled up the texts between Niall and Lily--and didn’t even read them, because _privacy, yo!_ \--and quickly sent her the picture along with Niall’s obnoxious words. 

“Thanks, matey,” Niall said, after Louis set his phone back down on the table. They continued to chat throughout the rest of their meal, switching from topic to topic, pausing mid-conversation to read Lily’s reply _(“Aw, sweetie, that’s a bit ambitious, don’t cha think?”)_ , which caused Harry to spray water out of his mouth as he cackled. Louis laughed so hard that his noises turned to an awful squeaking sound, which only happened when Louis really got laughing, and Niall was quick to defend his honor. 

“I’ll whip it out right now, lads! She’s jus’ bein’ a twat!” he said, standing up and grabbing at his belt as if he was actually going to whip his cock out right there in the park. That had only sent Louis into another round of high-pitched squealing laughter and caused Harry to slap his palm on the table while he cackled. They eventually got over it, going back to their happy chatter while they finished their meal, but Louis was quick to bring it up again afterwards. 

“Aw, _sweetie,”_ he mimicked Lily’s high pitch voice, causing Harry to bark out a laugh and then cover his mouth with his hand. 

“I hate both of you,” Niall said, glaring at them as he stood from the picnic table. “I’m gonna go find the dessert table and you’ll be _lucky_ if I decide to bring you back any. Fuckin’ pricks,” he said, flipping them off with both hands before stomping off towards the food tables. 

“Lily’s a fuckin’ gangster,” Louis said, shaking his head as he watched Niall disappear into the crowd of people. 

“Yeah, they’re good together,” Harry mused, stacking all of their empty plates together before tossing them into the rubbish bin a few feet away. He sat back down across from Louis, picking up his water bottle and taking a sip, his eyes never leaving Louis’ and--right. They were alone again. Okay, yes, this was Louis’ chance to find out what he was going to say earlier. 

“So…” Louis trailed off, picking at the plastic table cloth with his left hand, his other elbow propped up to rest his chin on. “Earlier, you were--um--gonna say?” 

“Oh, right,” Harry said, clearing his throat and looking down at the table. Louis waited, knowing that Harry took longer than most people to say things, but as the seconds ticked by Louis found himself getting more and more anxious. Harry seemed to be debating in his head, his eyebrows pinched together and his nose scrunching up as he thought. 

“Harry?” he pressed. 

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat again. He looked up and chuckled nervously. “Um, right. I just wanted to say sorry if I--you know--made it weird. Earlier. When I said...it was weird...” And--oh. Louis felt a small wave of disappointment wash over him because--that hadn’t been what he was expecting. He didn’t know _what_ he was expecting, really, but he was expecting something more significant than… that. 

“Oh,” Louis said, in a voice he hardly recognized-- _what the fuck?_ “No problem, mate.” _Mate?_ Seriously, what the fuck was Louis doing? Harry’s eyes flickered to his and gave him a funny look, _probably because he was acting so weird what the fuck,_ and after a few seconds had passed he finally shook it off and smiled at Louis. 

“Cool.” 

“Cool,” Louis echoed, quickly looking back down at where he had picked a hole straight through the table cloth. They sat there in silence for the next few minutes--well, silence between the two of them. There were all kinds of noises coming from the full tables around them--and Louis couldn’t help but wonder what Harry was actually going to say earlier. Maybe he could still read Harry better than he had thought, because he knew Harry had just made something up. 

Before Louis could overthink it too much, Niall was back with three small plates of apple pie, because Niall was still the best. Even if his girlfriend had made fun of his dick size and started a riot between the three of them. Silently, they all began eating their respective pieces of pie, stopping only to moan about how good it was. 

“This is American as fuck,” Niall laughed, shoving another huge bite of apple pie into his mouth. 

“This is amazing,” Harry chimed in. “Like--this whole day is awesome.” 

And--yeah. Louis couldn’t help but agree. This day really had been awesome so far. Louis smiled down at his apple pie, cutting off another piece with his plastic fork before finally saying, “Yeah. This is great.” 

Of course Niall had to ruin the moment, but they’d allow it because they had been making fun of his dick for the past ten minutes. “Remember back when Harry was a douche and didn’t eat unrefined sugar? Whatever the fuck that is.” 

Louis choked on his pie, coughing loudly and causing both of them to look over at him. He got his air back and his choking sounds turned into laughter instead. “You _were_ a douche!” 

“Heeeyyy,” Harry whined, sticking out his bottom lip again. “I wasn’t a _douche._ I was _health conscious_.” 

“Nah, mate, you were a douche. Hate to be the one who breaks it to ya,” Niall said, shrugging in an over-exaggerated way at Harry. Louis cackled again, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, his fork dangling down underneath it.

“Oh my god, remember when he did the _juice cleanse?”_ Louis asked Niall, his eyes widening at the memory of twenty year old Harry walking around drinking nasty juices instead of eating normal food like the rest of them. 

“Fuck me! The juices! They smelled _so bad!”_ Niall said, laughing loudly and high-fiving Louis. And-- _they were in the danger zone._ Louis never talked about this Harry. The Harry that _he didn’t know._ The Harry that had never existed to him. Sure, he knew about all of Harry’s weird health habits because they were forced to be on tour together--but _he had never talked about this Harry out loud._

And now they were apparently at the stage where Louis could poke fun at _that_ Harry? 

_The Harry he never knew?!_

What the fuck was life? 

“Heeeeyyy!” Harry whined, louder this time, though Louis could see where he was trying to hold his grin back. “Those really worked! And they didn’t taste that bad. Some of them smelled a little... off... but they tasted just fine. You guys would have _known_ that if you weren’t so busy making fun of them.”

Louis rolled his eyes in an over dramatic way, pointedly ignoring Harry by turning his whole body back towards Niall. “Remember when he went vegan for, like, two weeks?” 

“Oh _god,”_ Niall groaned, “how could I forget? I went to pour some milk into my frosties one mornin’ and out came this weird smellin’ _goo.”_

“It was unsweetened organic coconut milk and it was _delicious,_ thank you very much,” Harry interjected, still glaring at the both of them with his arms now crossed over his chest. “It was full of vitamin B, which is really good for your metabolism and helps you feel more energized throughout the day and _oh my god, I was a douche!”_ Harry said, his jaw dropping and a look of shock coming across his face. 

Louis _lost_ it.

He and Niall collapsed onto each other, gasping for air as they cackled, tears springing to both of their eyes as they choked on the air around them. “Oh my _god_ , did I always sound that _douchey?_ Why didn’t anybody tell me?” Harry asked, staring down at the table with wide concerned eyes, a look of a horror still spread across his face. 

“We did tell ya!” Niall laughed, still leaning against Louis for support because they were too weak to sit up straight. “Remember the night that Payno lost his fuckin’ mind because you had thrown away all of his muscle milk, thinkin’ it was yours? He _definitely_ called you out on your douchiness that night,” Niall said, pointing at Harry and continuing to laugh. 

Harry frowned. “But that stuff isn’t good for you! Even now, I’d tell him he shouldn’t be drinking it...” 

“‘Arry!” Niall laughed, wiping his eyes. “That’s not my point!” 

“Alright, alright.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I just can’t believe I never realized. Do you think our fans knew? Did they hate me for it?” And suddenly--it wasn’t funny anymore. Niall continued to laugh, Louis thought he might have even said yes, but Louis got a flash of something else. Something old. Back to a time when Harry cared too much and tortured himself reading what people were saying about him. Back to a time when Louis would find Harry curled up somewhere, completely heartbroken about how he’d never be good enough. 

With his heart pounding, because he felt an inexplicable need to fix Harry all of a sudden, he cut Niall off in the middle of whatever he was laughing about and said, “Harry. The fans loved you. They _still_ love you. All of them, they all love you, everything about you. If anything, all of your crazy health kicks made you a better, more likeable person to them. They knew you cared about yourself and how that would--you know. Transfer over to them. In the... long... run...” Louis slowly trailed off, his eyes darting between Harry and Niall, because _where the fuck was this coming from?!_ Louis had to shut the fuck up right now. 

Both Harry and Niall had stopped talking immediately, both of them listening intently to what Louis had been saying. Niall was giving Louis a weird side-eyed glance, clearly taken aback by his whole speech, but Harry was staring intently at him. Louis hadn’t realized how much he had been rambling until the end, and now his cheeks were on fire. 

What the _fuck?_ Louis had no idea where any of that had come from. Of course everything he said was completely true, and Louis had always felt that way about Harry, but _why the fuck had he just said all of that out loud?_ Louis felt like he was going to throw up. His heart was pounding and his cheeks were burning and--yup, he was definitely going to pass out. 

“Louis--I don’t even know…” Harry stammered, his mouth hanging open when he couldn’t finish his sentence, his eyes burning holes into Louis’ already burning face. _Fuck, get outta there! Get out of there! Get. Out. Of. There. What are you still doing there?! Danger, Will Robinson!_ Louis abruptly stood up, causing both Harry and Niall to follow his sudden movement with their eyes.

“I need to--go. Home, I mean. I need--” Louis rubbed at his temples, frustrated that his brain couldn’t catch up with his mouth. “I need to run home and let Reggie out. I’ll--yeah. I’ll be back in a tick.” 

“Wait--what?” Harry said, staring up at Louis with a confused expression. 

“I need to go let Reggie out,” Louis repeated, slower this time. “And then... I’ll be back.” 

“Who’s Reggie?” Harry asked, squinting up at Louis. 

“My... dog?” 

“You have a dog?” 

“Yes...” Louis responded slowly. 

Silence washed over the three of them, Niall pointedly staring down at his phone to avoid the awkwardness Louis had caused, but Harry was still looking up at Louis with an expression he could no longer read. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat and it was so quiet between the three, he swore they could all hear it. 

Suddenly, Harry said in a quiet voice, so low he almost missed it, “I like dogs...” 

“Oh,” Louis said dumbly, taken aback because--of course he liked dogs. _Who doesn’t like dogs?_ There was something wrong with you if you didn’t like dogs. Louis scratched at his sweaty forehead, not sure what Harry’s confession had to do with anything. He just knew he needed to get out of there. 

Then, suddenly, it clicked. 

_Harry wanted to go with him._

Louis eyes widened, fear washing over him because no. 

No, no, no! 

Not now. Not after Louis had made a complete tit out of himself. There was no way he’d survive a trip all the way back to his house, _alone,_ with Harry Styles. Nope. Not happening. Louis was pretty sure he was going into cardiac arrest--or at least he hoped he was, because he _was not going back to his house with Harry Styles._

Then, as if Niall could literally _smell_ Louis’ fear, he stood up and grinned at them both. “Let’s all go!” 

Louis could fucking _kiss_ him. 

Louis _loved_ Niall. 

Jesus Christ, did he love Niall. Seriously, Niall was like--the best person who had ever lived. Why was he ever making fun of him? He swore to never do it again. Niall was an _angel._ A true blessing in his life. The relief that washed over Louis felt like stepping into the air con after roasting in the heat. His heart slowly went back to normal and his brain started functioning again and--okay. They could do this.

Louis could _totally_ do this.  
  


***

_Louis could not do this!_

His hands were shaking as he pulled his keys from his pocket, hyper-aware of Harry and Niall standing behind him on his porch as he struggled to unlock the door. The longer it took, the sweatier his hands got and the more agitated Reggie got on the other side of the door--evident in the way his usual half-hearted _woofs_ were turning into more of a _Hey, motherfucker, I’m about to wee on your rug_ kind of woof. 

“You okay there, Lou?” Niall piped up, snickering behind him. 

“Yup--just got to--ah, here we go,” he said, finally able to jam the key into the lock and twist it open. Reggie was the first thing to come into their sight, his fat arse sitting directly in front of the door, a stale dog expression on his face that showed how unamused he was by their antics. 

“Ohmygosh, he’s _adorable_!” Harry squealed and-- _did Harry just squeal?_ Louis turned around with his jaw dropped, Niall already laughing, and Harry quickly blushed as he looked away from them. “He’s just--cute. That’s all.” 

“Of course he’s cute,” Louis said, finally finding his voice again. “He’s _my_ dog, after all.” 

Niall huffed out a mock breath, pushing around Louis to get into the house, patting Reggie on his fat head once before he took off down the hall. Louis swallowed hard, stepping aside so Harry could go through the doorway before following him inside the house. “So, um, this is Reggie. Or--Reginald, if you want to be proper. Reggie, this is… Harry.” Louis hesitated to say his name for a moment _as if the dog knew who Harry was._

Though Louis was convinced that Reggie was smarter than the average pup, so maybe he _did_ know.

And--if it had been anybody else in the world, they probably would have made fun of Louis for going through proper introductions _for a dog_ \--but this was Harry. Harry treated everybody, canine or human alike, with the utmost respect. Louis hadn’t even thought twice before introducing them that way. Then, just as he had expected, Harry _stuck out his palm_ in front of Reggie as if they were going to shake hands (Reggie struggled with ordinary dog tricks, so that was a no-go), and actually said, “Hello, Reginald. Very nice to meet you.” 

_Fucking Harry Styles._

Louis huffed out a breath of laughter, biting down hard on his bottom lip with his sharp teeth, watching the scene unfold in front of him. Louis watched as Reggie walked in a circle, avoiding Harry’s attempts at a greeting, the dog looking up at Louis before letting out a long, pathetic whimper and--oh. Right.

“Oh! He needs to wee,” Louis said, chuckling awkwardly as he started heading towards the back door. “That’s why he’s acting so… weird. Come on, Reg,” Louis said, opening the back door and watching as Reggie darted past him and down the back stairs. 

“I was about to take it personally,” Harry chuckled, readjusting the bandana on his head and scrunching up his nose. 

“Nahhh, Reggie likes everybody. Just not when he has to wee.” 

“Well, who does?” Harry asked sarcastically, causing Louis to chuckle quietly. “Hey, um, thanks for… saying all those things back at the park,” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper and his eyes tearing holes into the side of Louis’ face. Louis forcibly swallowed, looking away from the screen door he had been watching Reggie through and slowly looking over at Harry, who--was standing very close to him, _what the fuck? When did that happen?!_

“Uh--yeah. No problem, mate,” Louis said and, maybe if he _mate’d_ him enough, his heart would stop doing wild things in his chest. Maybe he should start calling him bro instead. “Just had to speak my mind, _bro.”_

There. That should do it. 

Harry gave him a weird look, _probably because Louis was being so fucking weird, what the fuck?_ Before finally smiling sweetly at him and saying, “Still. Means a lot coming from--well, coming from you.” 

Okay, no _bro_ or _mate_ was going to stop Louis’ heart from fluttering at that, but--he could ignore it. Definitely. Neither of them had realized that Reggie had trotted back up the stairs and was currently panting at them through the other side of the screen door, so they both jumped a bit when Reggie gave off an impatient _woof._

“Jesus, Reggie,” Louis scolded, cracking the door open just enough for the dog to slink through before shutting the main door so the cold air wouldn’t escape. Louis turned around and watched as Harry clucked at the dog, settling down on his knees to pet the old yellow lab while he lapped at his water bowl. Okay--maybe Louis shouldn’t have introduced them, because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to watch Harry fond all over his dog. 

“How old is he?” Harry asked, looking up at Louis while his big hand continued to stroke Reggie’s back, the overhead lighting reflecting off the stupid rings he was wearing. 

“Um,” Louis said dumbly, shaking his head. _It was a simple question, you dumbfuck._ “Nine. He just turned nine a couple weeks ago. Or--that’s when I celebrate his birthday, at least. He was, um, a rescue dog? So nobody really knows when his real birthday is.” 

“Aww,” Harry cooed, his expression soft as he looked back down at the dog. “Happy belated birthday, Reginald. You don’t look a day over eight, you stud.” Louis snorted, quickly walking past Harry because _he had to get the fuck out of there before his heart melted right out of his body._ Of course Harry followed him though, Reggie moseying in behind the pair and heading straight for his pillow. “So did you just pick a random day for his birthday? Or is there some significance behind it...?” 

“Oh,” Louis said, taken back a bit by Harry’s question. “No, it’s um--the day I got him,” Louis chuckled nervously, as if Harry would judge him for that for any reason. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, watching as Reggie settled down on his pillow before finally looking back over to Harry, who was just smiling at him and _where the fuck did Niall run off to?_

“That’s sweet,” Harry said, his voice low and his smile sincere. 

Yup. Definitely shouldn’t have let Harry Styles enter his house and get all gooey-eyed because of his dog. There was no chance Louis would survive this. Louis cleared his throat, letting his arm drop back down to his side as he busied himself with grabbing a pair of sunglasses off of the table next to the door. “Thanks,” he said, finally acknowledging that Harry had said anything at all. 

“What made you decide to get a dog?” And--what the fuck was this, twenty questions? 

Louis swallowed, turning back towards Harry and pushing the sunglasses up over his forehead until they rested on top of his head. “Um…” Louis trailed off, not knowing how to answer that question. _Because I was tired of being alone._ “I… don’t know, honestly,” Louis lied, shrugging slightly. Harry could tell he was lying, of course he could tell, but thankfully he let it slide and nodded all the same. Louis sighed quietly, biting back down on his bottom lip. 

“You just, um, never mentioned wanting a dog before.” 

Louis’ breath caught in his throat, his eyes darting back to Harry’s. “Yeah I did.” 

Harry shook his head, letting a tiny puff of air out of his lungs. “No, you didn’t.” 

“I’m sure I did,” Louis said, his eyebrows furrowing and--what the fuck? Why were they even talking about this? This was _definitely_ part of the danger zone. They hadn’t talked about anything that happened when they were together--ever. Not one time since they broke up. Why now? Why was Harry doing this _now?_ Louis’ face must have reflected how he felt on the inside, because Harry tried to drop the subject. 

“Okay,” Harry said defeated, a small forced smile appearing on his face, his shoulders shrugging and his eyes avoiding Louis altogether. 

Louis frowned harder. “I _must_ have. I--the plan was _always_ to get a dog. Just--I knew it’d have to be _after,”_ Louis said, then watched in confusion as Harry’s face seemed to fall. Louis was taken aback, replaying what he had just said over again in his mind and-- _oh._ “After One Direction,” Louis quickly clarified, because _after Harry_ was never even a thought that had crossed his mind back then. “Because--touring and everything-- _I meant after the band was done,_ Harry.” Louis took a step towards Harry because he still wasn’t looking at him. 

“Okay,” Harry said, finally looking back over at Louis. “Yeah,” Harry added, that same, seemingly forced smile still on his face and _fuck, Louis has already fucked this up!_ Louis took another step closer, _needing_ Harry to understand that really had been what he meant--that when he imagined their life together back then, he had always pictured kids, a white fence and a dog--but before Louis could say anything else, Niall finally reappeared. 

“Ready to head back out, lads?” he asked, having changed into a white tank that had a sideways American flag graphic on it. “Sorry, I had to change me shirt, I was _roasting_ in that other one--everything okay?” he paused, pointing between the two of them, clearly sensing the tension in the room. And, really, you’d have to be pretty oblivious to miss it. 

“Yeah,” Louis said, taking a step back, his eyes still locked on Harry’s as if he were waiting for confirmation. 

“Yup,” Harry said, his smile seeming a little less forced now but Louis still felt a weird, nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t explain. This was _definitely_ why they didn’t talk about this--about them, about how things were--because absolutely no good could come from it. 

Louis took a deep breath in, holding it in for a second too long before slowly deflating. “So, what’s next on the agenda, Neil?” he asked, ignoring how his voice threatened to give out. 

“We’ve got about… half an hour until the sack race,” Niall said, grinning with his teeth on display at them. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Right. The sack race. How could I forget?” he asked sarcastically, pulling the front door open and stepping out on the porch, the other two following along behind him. He slipped his sunglasses down over his eyes as he locked the door, rolling his shoulders back and trying to steel himself for the rest of the day that was ahead of him.  
  


***

The next few hours seemed to fly by.

The sack race ended up being a nightmare, everybody tripping over each other as they tried to hop along the roped-off course, their elbows getting banged up in the process. One of the younger Wilson boys, couldn’t have been older than twelve, ended up winning, and Louis swore it was because he waited for everyone else to trip each other up before hopping around the carnage to a clean victory. 

That little bastard. 

After the sack race, they participated in six more games, which were thankfully not as physically brutal as the sack race had been. The _Smell You Later!_ contest ended up being a riot; the contestants were blindfolded and then would have to guess what they were smelling. Some of the things were pleasant (roses, vanilla, fresh baked muffins), some things were funny and challenging (tennis balls, leather pants, newborn baby--yes, they actually brought out a newborn baby for the challenge, thanks to Mrs. Keller, who had given birth just two weeks before). The last round was the gross challenge and--yeah. Louis would be fine never reliving that one, thank you very much. 

_Smell You Later!_ was followed up by Water Pong which, of course, was just beer pong without the beer. To which Niall had turned around and furrowed his eyebrows at Harry and Louis, a disgusted look on his face when he asked, “Who the fuck plays beer pong without beer? I was just starting to like America, too.” But despite his judgement, Niall had teamed up with Louis and they ended up winning all of the heats because--there were a lot of late night beer pong tourneys on the tour buses, okay? There was only so much you could do to entertain yourself. 

Niall had turned to Louis at one point and whispered, “This game is so much easier when the floor isn’t shakin’ back and forth!”, to which Louis had quickly agreed, though he pointed out that it probably gave them their edge. If they could master the game on a moving bus, they were destined to become World Champs on solid land. 

“Maybe you have your chance at a Ferrari after all,” Harry whispered to Louis, his breath ghosting over Louis’ ear and sending a shiver down his spine. Harry had quickly backed away and dove into another conversation with a group of locals, leaving Louis to get himself under control before the next game was announced. 

Fucking asshole. 

Water Pong was followed by [C](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cornhole)ornhole, which Louis had groaned about because _he fucking hated that game._ A group of gear techs had become obsessed with cornhole during their last tour and had always tried to convince others to play--but Louis was never hit by the cornhole bug. It was a stupid game with a stupid name. Why would he spend an afternoon throwing bean bags across the room when he could be doing something way more productive, like video games. 

So due to the fact that Louis insisted he sit that game out, Harry and Niall had teamed up together, and they ended up making it to the semi-finals before finally being knocked out of the running by the Abney twins. 

Stupid identical bastards. Of course they won, they had--like--the same brain. 

Louis came from a family with two sets of twins; he obviously knew that wasn’t true--also, he was almost thirty, so he knew a thing or two about genetics--but of course he had been rooting for Niall and Harry to win. So he was going to blame those stupid, creepy lookalikes for having the same brain.

After Cornhole was over, they made their way over to the end of the soccer field where the penalty kick competition were to take place. This was the only game Louis had been looking forward to, because obviously this was tailored to his abilities--thanks for nothing, Cornhole--and he bounced excitedly at the sidelines as he waited for his turn. 

Sadly, he didn’t win that competition either, and had lost by two goals to _Jamie,_ of all people. Louis was _never_ going to hear the end of it. “Of course you won! You’re _seventeen years old._ You’re in your _prime._ I’m an old man!” Louis defended, as Jamie ran around him with his arms thrown up in the air, singing _We Are The Champions._ There was no heat behind Louis’ words though; Jamie had gotten a full scholarship to college based off his soccer abilities--Louis hadn’t ever stood a chance. 

Afterwards, they headed down to the other end of the field where Niall and Harry were currently being bound together for their three-legged race. Louis stood on the sidelines, Jamie still shit-talking him in his ear ( _“What are the children going to think of you, when they realize they’re being coached by a loser?!”),_ and couldn’t help but grin when Harry met his eyes. Louis bit down on his bottom lip, his eyes travelling down and watching as the velcro restraint was wrapped around Harry and Niall’s thighs and calves. 

This was going to be a disaster. 

Niall spotted Louis on the sideline and gave him two thumbs up, smiling brightly at him. Louis returned the thumbs up, chuckling with Jamie as they predicted the bloodshed that was about to happen. “Wait til you see this awkward, baby-deer of a human try to walk,” Louis said, nodding over to where Harry was standing, in the middle of last minute strategizing with Niall. 

Jamie laughed. “Is it that bad?” 

“Oh, it’s going to be horrible,” Louis said around a smirk. “He can barely stay upright when he has the usage of both legs. You should YouTube _Harry Style Falls on Stage_ and see how many things come up. Poor Niall, he’s going to be pulled right down with him!” Louis said, causing him and Jamie to go into another fit of laughter. Finally the race began and--just as Louis had predicted--Niall and Harry went down within their first few steps, despite all their hardcore strategizing. 

“Pick yourselves up off the floor! You’re embarrassing our whole nation!” Louis yelled out over the crowd, and he knew they could hear him because Harry threw his head back and laughed loudly, still struggling to get back on his feet with Niall. “The Royal Family is _shamed!_ Ireland is _shamed!”_ Louis continued heckling, his hands cupped around his mouth to carry his voice over everybody else’s cheers. “No wonder England Brexited!” 

Louis and Jamie leaned against each other as they laughed, watching the rest of the race with hands over their eyes because _it was a fucking disaster._ As expected, Harry and Niall _did not win,_ but they also didn’t come in last. So. Small victories. Louis obviously didn’t let it go for a while, though, especially after all the strategizing that he had been forced to listen to all morning. 

“You’re a disgrace,” Louis said when the two made their walk of shame. _“Bloody disgrace!”_

They had twenty minutes before they had to head over to the the last game of the day, the one that Louis was dreading the most-- _the fucking pie eating contest._ “I’m not even hungry!” Louis whined, tugging on Niall’s shirt like the child he secretly was. “We ate too much at lunch, why did we eat so much at lunch?!” 

“Speak for yourself, Tommo. I’m starvin’,” Niall laughed, patting Louis’ shoulder consoling and blinking innocently at him. 

Louis’ jaw dropped. “How is that fucking _possible?”_

“I don’t know, mate. It’s like an endless pit in there.” Niall shrugged, then laughed loudly at Louis’ horrified face. The three of them made their way to the small stage that was set up for the competition, Louis frowning deeply the whole time. There was no way he was going to be able to do this. 

“What if I throw up?” Louis asked to nobody in particular.

“Wouldn’t be the first time a crowd has watched you barf, eh, Lou?” Niall laughed, elbowing Louis and the stomach and--ugh. He’d never be able to live that damn charity match down. It wasn’t his fault he threw up on the pitch! He was bloody _sick!_ “You’re no stranger to that either, right, Harry?” Niall asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. 

Harry glared at him, then turned his attention towards a still-panicked Louis. “At least _your_ sick didn’t get sold on eBay,” he said, grimacing at the memory and-- _oh my God._ Louis had completely forgotten about that. Sometimes their fans took things _too_ far; that was definitely one of those times. 

“True,” Louis said, though he still was uneasy about this damn pie eating contest. 

Before he could overthink it any more though, he and Niall were being ushered onto the stage and over to their designated sections of the long table filled with berry pies. Louis stood in front of his spot, blinking down at the pie in front of him, looking to his left and right at his competition and _yeah._ He was definitely not going to win this. 

But his mum didn’t raise him to half-arse anything, so that’s how he found himself letting Becky Williams attach a plastic _bib_ to him (he was never going to live this down, fuck), and then wish him good luck before moving onto the next contestant. He stared down at the pie again, shaking his head before looking up and, somehow, immediately locking eyes with Harry--even though there was a huge crowd around the stage. 

He watched as Harry cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something at him, but he couldn’t hear him. He squinted at Harry, mouthing _What?_ and Harry pushed his way a bit closer to the stage before repeating himself, his hands still cupped around his mouth to carry his voice. This time Louis definitely heard it and he immediately threw his head back and cackled. _“Just close your eyes and think of England!”_

Fuck. It was so easy to fall back into it. 

To Harry. 

Fuck, Louis was _so_ fucked. 

Faintly, Louis could hear Becky speaking into the microphone, listing off the rules (“ _No hands, no helpin’, and no ‘dilly-daddlin’!”_ ), but Louis was staring directly at Harry, a smile still stretched across his face. Fuck, he was so pretty it hurt. Louis swallowed, tearing his eyes away from Harry as Becky made sure everybody was in place and understood the rules. When he found Harry in the crowd again, his eyes went wide at the realization that Harry had his phone poised in the air, either taking pictures or--worse-- _recording._

Louis glared hard at him, at his stupid phone, and he could see Harry laughing loudly behind it. Louis mouthed _How dare you_ at the last second before Becky hollered, “Ready, set, eat!” 

The next five minutes were something Louis promised to block out of his memory for good. 

It was... ugly. 

He didn’t win, and neither did Niall; that was all anybody needed to know. 

“I aced it,” Niall said proudly, berry still evident on his face. 

“You came in fifth,” Louis said flatly, unamused and feeling sick to his stomach. 

Niall shrugged one shoulder at him. “Did you see the guys that beat me?! They were, like, three times our size! They prolly do this for a living.” And--yeah. That was actually true. The winner, Bobby Branson, was literally a professional competitive eater, so they really had no chance at all. “At least I did better than you, you fuckin’ pussy. Did you eat _any_ of it?!” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Just because I don’t have blueberries all over my face _doesn’t mean I didn’t try._ I just know how to clean myself afterwards,” Louis said, causing Harry to snort.

“He did try!” Harry said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Want to see the footage?!” 

_Fucking Harry Styles!_

The three of them headed away from the competition area, thankfully done with games for the rest of the day. It was nearing seven in the evening now; they had another hour before the prizes would be given out to the winners, and another hour after that until the sun went down and they’d all make their way over to Lake John to watch the fireworks show. 

Louis had every intention of finding a shady spot to snooze in, because his belly was uncomfortably full of pie and the only remedy was to sleep it off, but Niall was determined for them to keep moving ( _“We’ll sleep when we’re dead, lads!”)_ , so they ended up spending the next hour tossing a Frisbee back and forth with Jamie and a few other guys Louis knew from coaching the soccer team. 

The prize ceremony took place afterwards, which lasted way longer than it should have because each winner decided to give an impromptu speech that lasted for days. Louis was reminded of the time that one of the awards shows cut Liam’s acceptance speech off early by playing music and how all the boys hadn’t let it go for weeks. Every time Liam would be ranting about something, usually on the bus or on a plane, one of the lads would start playing elevator music from their phone to shut him up--obviously causing everybody else to burst out laughing. 

So when Niall and Louis had to go up on stage to accept their prize, Louis kept it short and sweet, just like he used to whenever they accepted an award and he was always the one expected to say something. ( _“You’re the oldest Tommo, it’s your responsibility!_ ”) So when Becky handed him a pathetic little trophy made out of plastic and a crooked label (freshly printed from a label maker) that said **“Chance, NC: Water Pong Champions of 2021!”** (where the _fuck_ was his Ferrari?), he stood in front of the microphone and looked out at the crowd. 

“We’d like to thank our families, who couldn’t be here today, because I’m sure they’d be so proud of us,” he said, the whole crowd chuckling, and he had to bite back a grin at his ridiculous speech. He thought about his next line, debating on whether or not he wanted to say it before finally deciding _fuck it--this town knew him anyway._ “I don’t know about you, Niall, but I’m going to toss one of those worthless BRIT awards off the shelf at home to make room for this sweet baby,” he said, raising the plastic trophy high above his head. 

“Yes! Definitely! Make room for the real prize!” Niall cheered, pushing Louis’ out of the way to get to the microphone. The crowd loved it--loved them, loved Louis--and they were the biggest hit of the evening. Louis stumbled off the stage with Niall on his heels, feeling wild and carefree for the first time in… well, _too_ long, frankly. Louis wasn’t dense enough to think anybody in this town hadn’t been aware of his ex-celebrity status, but to openly acknowledge it in front of the whole town, making a joke out of the whole thing, was something he never thought he’d do. 

They watched the rest of the ceremony, Louis tucked in between Harry and Niall, looking down at the plastic trophy and smiling to himself. He was… happy. He looked to his left, where Niall was cheering on the Cornhole winners, then to his right only to find Harry staring back at him already. They looked at each other for a minute, their eyes locked together, before Louis’ smile broke out across his face. 

Harry smiled right back, biting down on his bottom lip and shaking his head, looking away from Louis only to look right back, Louis’ eyes unmoving. They didn’t have to say anything; it was like they both felt it--felt something change, or lift between the two of them. The crowd roared around them when the Abney twins left the stage, and Louis was aware of Niall saying something to him on his other side, but his eyes were still locked on Harry’s. 

Harry raised his eyebrows at him, still smiling and looking directly at him. 

Maybe Harry coming back into his life wouldn’t be _all_ bad.  
  


***

The rest of the evening was spent chatting with different groups of people, the three of them finding themselves in conversations that became weirder the later it got. By the time they ran into Betty Brownfield from the Pig Wig, the sun had almost set and they needed to rush through it to make it to the lake on time. The three made the walk mostly in silence, exhaustion clearly taking a toll on all of them--it had been a _long_ day.

They found a spot away from the majority of the crowd, near a cluster of trees that lined the outside of the lake, and they stood in a small huddle as they waited for the fireworks to begin. Lightning bugs flew past them every now and again with their glowing green butts, the cicada bugs wailing from the woods behind them, happy chatter coming from all around them as everybody settled in for the show. 

“I don’t know about you lads, but I can’t wait to go to sleep,” Louis laughed, looking between the other two. “Fuck, I’m so old!” 

“You _are_ old, Tommo,” Niall laughed, but his laugh was cut off when it suddenly turned into a yawn, causing all three of them to burst out laughing. 

“I feel like I haven’t done this much in years,” Harry said, his voice deeper and slower than usual, which happened when he got tired. Not that Louis thought about that or anything. “Fuck--is the 4th of July always like this here?” 

“Mhmm,” Louis hummed as a response. “S’pretty crazy, innit?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, smiling again as he leaned up against the tree behind him and let his head fall back against it. Not long after that, the fireworks started. It wasn’t anything spectacular, or anything like the New Year’s Eve fireworks show back in London, but it was still a nice setup that seemed to top the whole night off. 

At one point, Louis heard Harry chuckling over the _boom! boom! boom!_ of the exploding fireworks and looked over at him. He was standing with his head tilted back on his shoulders, his eyes directed up towards the sky at the exploding lights and colors above, his arms crossed over his chest and his mouth parted as he chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Louis asked, having to lean close to make sure he heard him, which grabbed Niall’s attention. 

“You know what this reminds me of?” Harry asked, tilting his head over to look at both Niall and him. “The Gotta Be You video.” And--that was literally the last thing he ever expected Harry to say, but he had to bite back a grin. Niall had rested his chin over Louis’ shoulder to hear what Harry was saying, so when he laughed it was directly into Louis’ ear. 

“Jesus Christ, that was so fucking long ago!” Niall shouted, making Louis wince but he knew it was necessary in order for Harry to hear him over the exploding fireworks. Niall squeezed himself in between the two, wrapping one arm around Louis’ shoulders and one around Harry’s. “You lads remember the first time we saw the fireworks for the Where We Are tour?” 

“Yeah, mate,” Louis said, smiling fondly over at the two of them. “That shit was crazy.” 

“I remember thinking, like, _they’re going to do this for us every night?_ Are they _mad_?” Harry said, letting his arms drop down to his side so he could wrap one around Niall’s back. “Do they know we’re not cool enough for that?” Harry chuckled, causing both Louis and Niall to laugh along with him. 

“The fireworks were much better during Where We Are, compared to our last tour,” Louis commented, remembering how lackluster the fireworks seemed to be during On The Road Again (in his opinion, at least). “Especially at the end of the show.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, smiling fondly at both of them. “During Best Song Ever, when the catwalk would explode? That was definitely my favorite part of the show.” 

“Jesus,” Niall breathed out, shaking his head before tilting it back to stare up at the exploding sky. Silence washed over the three of them as they all got lost in their own thoughts--their own memories--their own recollections of their younger years. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, pulling his arm up to wrap around the top of Niall’s shoulders, his fingers dangling over Niall’s opposite shoulder, the three of them huddled together in a tight embrace. Louis was hyper-aware of how close Harry’s arm was to him, since it was wrapped around Niall’s lower back, but the moment called for their closeness. 

Louis looked down when Niall dropped his arm from around his shoulder, Niall wiggling beside him as he struggled to dig his phone out of his pocket. Louis blinked, watching as he swiped the camera app open and held the phone out in front of them. “C’mon then, lads, it’s been a while,” he said, the camera displaying their dark reflections as they all chuckled because--yeah--it had definitely been a while since they all took a selfie together. Despite the questionable lighting and the fact there was a fireworks show going on around them, Louis still found himself shaking his hair out and swiping his fringe out of his eyes before leaning in to take the picture. 

“Fuck’s sake, Tommo, do you always hafta do that?” Niall huffed, turning to look at Louis after he had snapped the picture, Louis’ eyes having been bugged out and his face pinched together in his go-to picture pose. 

Harry chuckled on his other side and Louis frowned at Niall. “Do what?!” 

“That god awful face! Fuck that! We’re taking another,” he said, extending his arm back out. The three of them leaned in again and Louis threw up a West-Side hand sign, Niall snapping the picture and then glaring at Louis. Harry threw his head back and laughed on his other side, Louis smiling innocently at Niall. “ _Another_ ,” Niall demanded, glaring at Louis, causing Harry to laugh harder. 

The next picture was even more of a disaster, since Harry still had his head thrown back in laughter and Louis was sticking his tongue out, trying to touch Niall’s cheek with the tip of it. “Damn it, lads, be serious!” Niall demanded, though he couldn’t help but chuckle at how the last one had turned out. They all leaned back in, smiling brightly at the camera--until Louis saw Niall’s thumb moving to snap the picture, and he quickly scrunched his nose up and crossed his eyes. 

Harry laughed again, letting his forehead drop down onto Niall’s shoulders and Louis couldn’t help but smirk. The whole situation reminded him of simpler times--back when they posed for pictures together all the time, always doing the opposite of what the picture-taker had wanted and sending everybody else into fits of giggles. 

“Fuck you, I want a _nice_ picture of us!” Niall said, while Harry composed himself and readjusted the bandana that had slipped down on his forehead. 

“Those _were_ nice!” Louis laughed, offended. 

“I want one for the memory books!”

“The mem books,” Louis muttered under his breath, but nodded for Niall to bring his phone up again all the same. The fireworks continued exploding above them, Harry chuckling on Niall’s other side before leaning in and giving a toothy smile at the camera, as shown in the display on Niall’s phone. Louis found himself staring at Harry though, at that fucking child-like smile he had, and before he realized what was happening--Niall snapped the picture and _what the fuck?_ Louis hadn’t even been ready. 

“Perfect!” Niall declared, letting his arm drop back down to a normal height and typing something into his phone. 

“I wasn’t even looking at the camera!” Louis said, trying to get a look at the picture Niall had taken. Louis sighed grumpily, turning his head away from Niall while he tapped away on his phone. 

“You’ll have to send those to me!” Harry said over the sounds of fireworks. 

After all of Niall’s complaints about Louis’ obnoxious faces and West-Sides and finally, the one Louis _hadn’t even posed for_ , Niall deemed as perfect? Whatever. He would never understand Niall’s selfie standards. He remembered Niall proclaiming himself as the official 1D selfie taker, because he was the only one who somehow mastered the ability to get all of them in the shot, and the role had gone straight to his head.

He had unrealistic expectations for how he wanted his pictures to turn out. 

They were selfies, not works of art, but okay. 

“Do you think we’d break the internet if I tweeted it out?” Niall asked around a breathy chuckle, causing Louis’ chest to tighten at the thought. He slowly turned his head back to Niall, trying to gauge if he was being serious or just taking the piss, but from what Louis could tell--it was a legitimate question. He opened his mouth to say something, asking Niall if he really thought that was a good idea, all things considered, but Harry spoke up before he could get the chance. 

“Do you still even have that kind of following?” Harry taunted, a cheeky smile across his face. 

“Hey, fuck you, I’m very popular on social media!” 

“Or at least you _would_ be, after postin’ a picture with me ‘n Harold in it,” Louis said before his brain could stop him, and-- _where the fuck had that come from?_ Louis hadn’t referred to Harry as Harold in… _years._ Harry’s eyes were locked onto his, the nickname not going unnoticed, and Louis’ breath caught in his throat. 

He definitely just fucked up. 

Thankfully Niall was too busy defending himself, defending his followers--shoving his phone in Louis’ face and pointing at the millions of followers he still had on Twitter (that they _all_ still had on Twitter, but okay, Niall)--to notice that Louis wasn’t really breathing after his slip-up. Harry was still staring at him, but his smile was soft--fond, even--and that wasn’t helping Louis’ breathing situation. 

Also-- _why were they all still huddled together?_ Louis thought about dropping his arm from around Niall’s shoulders, but then, for some reason, he didn’t. It still felt like they should all be huddled together. So he stayed, his arm around Niall’s shoulder and Harry’s arm around Niall’s back, Niall being the only one with both of his hands free as he typed away on his phone. 

The fireworks seemed to be wrapping up because the explosions were getting closer together and more intense, but Louis wasn’t watching them. He was watching Harry and the way his face was glowing different colors depending on which firework was going off above. Eventually, Niall slipped his phone back into his pocket and his arms found their previous positions around Louis and Harry, the three of them falling back into silence as they watched the end of the show. 

Louis couldn’t help but suddenly wish Liam and Zayn were here, which--was kind of unexpected. Very unexpected, actually, because Louis wasn’t super close with either of them anymore. It had been months since he talked to either of them on the phone, their only form of communication being the random text or tweet--and even that, Louis couldn’t pinpoint how long ago it was. But now, here, standing huddled next to Niall and _Harry_ , of all people, he couldn’t help but miss the other two who completed their group. 

Then, in one of their freaky moments that hadn’t happened in so long, Harry said, “I kind of wish Payno and Zayn were here.” And-- _what the fuck, get out Louis’ brain!_ Louis’ breath hitched in his throat, taken back by how much they still think alike. 

Louis turned his head to look at Harry, not surprised to find him already looking back. “I was _literally_ just thinking that,” Louis chuckled nervously, causing Harry to chuckle as well. 

“I mean, we could call them,” Niall stated, his head swiveling between Louis and Harry from where he stood between them, their arms still wrapped around him, gauging their reactions. “We could text ‘em our beautiful pictures,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at Louis, then turned his head to do the same to Harry. 

Harry laughed at that. “Nah, it’s super late over there. Middle of the night.” 

“So?” Niall laughed. “As if we haven’t all called each other at the arsecrack of dawn before,” Niall said, pinching Louis’ side and _hey, fuck you._ Louis glared at the side of Niall’s head, where he was pointedly avoiding him. It wasn’t _Louis’_ fault that he often forgot about their time difference.

Okay, so it technically was his fault, but _still._

Then suddenly Niall said, “Hey, Haz, remember that time you almost [b](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Hrzm-kQP-0&feature=youtu.be&t=3m43s)urned your face off on the pyros during Take Me Home?”  
  


***

By the time Louis and Niall finally got back to his house that night, it was well past midnight and they were both dragging their feet with exhaustion. “Louis, mate, do you mind if I just like--go straight to bed, like the old fuck I am?” Niall laughed as they stepped through the front door.

“Nah, man, go for it,” Louis chuckled, smiling over at Niall as they both greeted Reggie, who was no doubt ready for another potty break. “I’m just gonna let Reggie out for a bit and then head to bed meself,” Louis said, Reggie’s ears perking up at the sound of his name. Louis smiled fondly at the dog, bending down to give him a good scratch on the bum. 

Niall yawned loudly, stretching high up to the ceiling while standing on his tiptoes. “Aces. I’ll see you in the mornin’, then,” Niall said, offering up a small wave before dragging his feet down the hallway towards the guest room. 

Louis let a long breath of air leave his lungs, smiling down at the dog. “Come on then, mate. Let’s get you sorted,” he said, heading towards the backdoor with Reggie on his heels. He kicked his shoes off by the back door, peeling his socks off and stuffing them into his discarded shoes, before heading out onto the porch. Reggie trotted off down the stairs and into the yard while Louis plopped down on the steps, leaning his head against the railing and letting his eyes slip shut, his sweaty toes flexing in the warm air. 

He hadn’t even had any alcohol today, but he still somehow felt hungover. Hanging out with your ex-boyfriend who made you _feel_ things was fucking exhausting. This whole day had been such a roller coaster of emotions. Louis cracked his eyes open, his head still leaning against the wooden railing next to him, watching as Reggie sniffed around the yard, his pace slow--knowing that Louis was in no rush to get back up. 

They stayed out there for a while longer, Louis having lost track of time at that point, and after Reggie had done his exploring of the backyard, he had slumped back up the stairs and laid down behind Louis. Louis sighed quietly, staring up at the stars that littered the sky, Reggie’s soft pants from behind him mixing in with the different bugs chirping. Once Louis’ eyelids finally got too heavy to stand, he pushed himself up and held the door open for Reggie to go back inside. 

Louis left Reggie to sleep on his pillow out in the living room before quietly clicking his bedroom door shut--assuming Niall had already fallen asleep. Louis removed his sweaty clothes from the day and took a quick shower, numbly making his way through his nighttime routine. 

When Louis finally fell into bed, his hair still damp and soft cotton pajama pants covering his legs, he laid flat on his back and stared up at the ceiling, his room dark as he tried to will his body to sleep. He was exhausted, yes, but the shower seemed to have a reverse effect on him and now he was more awake than he should have been at this hour. Especially after everything that had happened today. 

_Ugh_ , so much had happened today. 

His phone buzzed from the bedside table where he had set it to charge before his shower, and he silently rolled over and squinted at the bright screen, his heart coming to a stop when he realized it was a Twitter mention from Niall. Without swiping the phone unlocked, Louis could only see a preview of the tweet, but it was enough to give away the contents and _oh my fucking god, he didn’t._

Louis swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, his eyes wide as he swiped his phone unlocked, clicking on his mentions with a shaky thumb. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel every beat-- _what the fuck was Niall thinking?!_ Louis swallowed again as the tweet loaded, his throat feeling like he had swallowed a handful of glass, and when the tweet finally loaded he made a pathetic whimpering noise.

> **@NiallOfficial:** Epic day with these absolute legends ! Missed my boys !! Happy 4th, Americaaa !!! **@Louis_Tomlinson @Harry_Styles** instagram.com/p/BEp7O8Cdi/ 

  
He tapped on the instagram link and when the picture finally loaded, a sigh of relief left his lungs. He hadn’t known what to expect, but he was relieved when the blurry picture turned out to be the one with Harry’s head thrown back in a laugh, Louis’ tongue stretched out towards Niall’s cheek and Niall staring blankly at the camera. The picture had been filtered a few times and brightened so you could actually see them.

Louis still couldn’t believe Niall had actually posted it, though. Louis hadn’t been publicly matched with Harry in-- _Jesus Christ, he had no idea!_ Back before everything had gone to shit. Before they were shoved deep down into the closet, before they had asked management if they could come out. Whenever they had been in public together over the last almost-eight years, it had always been One Direction related. But since the band’s split back in March of 2016, Louis hadn’t been seen with Harry. 

Because they hadn’t existed to each other. 

And now-- _what the fuck were they now?_

Five years ago, Niall wouldn’t have been allowed to post that picture, but since they were retired and no longer under any sort of contract from their old management team, they obviously had full control of their social media accounts again. But it still had Louis’ heart pounding because-- _Jesus Christ._

It was weird. 

_Everything was weird!_

How was this his life? 

How was he in a place with Harry that Niall felt comfortable enough, as his best mate, to post the picture for the whole world to see? Today had been the longest day of Louis’ whole life. So much had changed and it scared the _shit_ out of him. He saw the number of likes and comments flying up by the second, just like they always had, but he was too scared to scroll down and read the comments that were coming in. 

Because even after all these years--Louis was still a pussy. 

Before he could do anything, or think about it any further, another Twitter notification popped up on his phone and--yup, he was definitely going into cardiac arrest now. Louis bit down on his thumbnail as he switched back to Twitter, opening up Harry’s reply and reading it with unblinking eyes.

> **@Harry_Styles: @NiallOfficial @Louis_Tomlinson** Lads. 

  
And-- _Harry was mentioning him on Twitter?! What in the actual fuck was his life?!_

Okay, yes, it was technically only one word, and yes, it was just a reply to Niall--but still. Louis felt fucking _dangerous_ with it. This was happening--this was real life. Louis never thought he’d see the day when they ever interacted with each other on Twitter, and--if he was a braver man, he would scroll down and see what the thousands of comments were saying.

Were they just as shocked? 

Were they planning a One Direction reunion tour? 

Were they making fun of him? 

Were they calling Louis a fag, just like old times?

Louis refused to find out. Instead, he stared at the reply button, his eyes focusing on it so hard that they eventually crossed. He sat up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist as he held his phone with both hands, taking a deep breath in before clicking on reply.

> **@Louis_Tomlinson: @Harry_Styles @Niall_Official** Siiiiiiiick day mates ! Horrible pic tho !!! We look like a bunch of wankers ! 

  
Louis was biting through the skin on his bottom lip and he could taste blood every time his tongue swiped over it, but he was currently having some sort of meltdown because what the fuck happens now? Just when he thought this day couldn’t have gotten any more complicated, Niall decided to bring social media into the equation. 

> **@Niall_Official: @Louis_Tomlinson @Harry_Styles** AN WHOSE FAULT WAS THAT , TOMMO ?! prick ahahahah 

  


> **@Louis_Tomlinson: @Niall_Official @Harry_Styles** ooo i’m sorry I ruined your perfect pic !! selfie king Neil !!! salty doggg 

  


> **@Harry_Styles: @Niall_Official @Louis_Tomlinson** That’s Mr. Selfie King to you. 

  
Louis’ breath hitched again because-- _that was directed at him._ Harry’s previous tweet had been a generic reply, but _holy shit they were actually going to do this._ Okay. _Okay,_ right. Yes. Louis was fine with this. Louis was breathing. Louis wasn’t panicking or anything. 

> **@Louis_Tomlinson: @Harry_Styles @Niall_Official** pisssss off !! I’m still waitin on my Ferrari there mate !! Dont talk 2 me until then byeeeee 

  
When Harry’s response came in two minutes later, it was of four emojis and nothing else.

The red race car. Sunglasses smiley. The frying pan with an egg in it. American flag. 

Louis quickly locked his phone and set it face down on his nightstand--he couldn’t physically handle anything else tonight. He fell backwards onto his pillows, his frantic eyes blinking up at the ceiling as he replayed everything that just happened. His heart was still pounding violently in his chest, his whole body feeling like it was shaking even though he was lying still. The house was silent, the room was dark, and Louis might not survive the night. 

He heard his phone buzz a few more times afterwards, but he refused to look at it. He kind of wanted to take his phone into the loo and flush it down the toilet, because his phone _scared the hell out of him_ right now. His phone was connecting him to _Harry._

_Publicly._

Louis eyes widened further in the dark, his breath catching in his throat again. _Millions of people just saw their interaction._ And he knew things weren’t like before, back when they were at the height of their fame, but they still had _millions and millions_ of followers between the three of them. And even though One Direction had been broken up for five years, they still had _so_ many dedicated fans. 

Fans who still tweeted them every day. Fans who still cared about them. 

What if their return to social media _really did_ break the internet, like Niall had said earlier? 

Yes, they all still tweeted out random things and random pictures, and their presence on social media was still known, but this was different. This was _Harry and Louis_ in the same picture, the same tweet, tweeting back and forth. No matter how much Louis wanted to believe people cared just as much about what he had to say to Liam, or Zayn, or Niall even--he knew better. Because he knew what _Larry Stylinson_ did to his relationship. 

What it did to their fans. What it _meant_ to their fans. 

Fuck. 

_Fuck._

Louis didn’t know how long he laid there, staring up at his ceiling and reevaluating every minute of the day. From how he had felt when he first saw Harry that morning and realized they’d be seeing each other throughout the day, to how he felt now when Niall tweeted out the picture of them. It was like night and day. They were two totally different worlds. _How had it been less than twenty-four hours?!_

The door to his bedroom cracked open and Louis strained his neck up, watching as Niall’s blonde head peered around the door before opening it wider. “You’re still up,” Niall said, stepping into the room and leaving the door open, the light from the hallway flooding in and allowing enough light for them to see each other. 

“Yeah,” Louis replied, his tone flat and barely above a whisper, watching as Niall walked around to the other side of the bed before flopping down on it. He wasn’t sure if he had ever gone to sleep, but he was dressed in baggy grey trackies and a white tee, which led him to believe he had at least tried. Louis knew what was keeping himself awake, _the fact that Harry Styles existed_ , but he wasn’t sure why Niall wasn’t asleep by now. “What’s up?” 

Niall just made an _ehh_ sound, his shoulders coming up in a shrug even from his prone position, and--yeah. Louis agreed with that. They were silent for a while, the two of them lost in their own thoughts, until finally Niall spoke up again. “You aren’t mad at me, are ya?” 

“For the picture?” Louis clarified, looking over at Niall, who hummed out a reply. “No. I’m not… mad,” Louis said, because he _wasn’t_ mad, but… he didn’t know what he was, either. He didn’t know anything anymore. Nothing made sense. He looked back up at the ceiling, the room silent before Niall shuffled around beside him until he was laying properly, his head resting on the other pillow and his hands folded across his stomach. 

“I shoulda asked you both again before I did it, just to be sure, since I didn’t get a real answer outta either one of you earlier when I asked. But, I don’t know. It just felt--right? I guess?” 

“It’s all good, mate,” Louis said, because--it was. It still scared the shit out of him, but he didn’t want Niall to feel bad about it. It must have felt liberating, in some way, to be able to tweet it after the strict rules everybody used to have when it came to Louis and Harry. 

Louis said as much to Niall, who chuckled quietly and said, “It really did, man. Made me feel, I don’t know, like a rebel.” They both laughed quietly, and then Niall brought out his best Zayn impersonation when he said, _“Like a Bradford bad boy,”_ which had Louis laughing so hard his feet kicked up in the air. They settled down after that, silence washing back over them as they both got lost in their own thoughts, so Louis jumped a little when Niall spoke up again. “I’m still expectin’ a call from Don any second, cussin’ me out for breakin’ the rules,” he laughed, and-- _oh God._

Louis hadn’t thought about Donald Willard in _years._

Don worked for Modest! Management as some sort of consultant. He and his team of three were in charge of all the lads’ social media accounts, and whenever any of them did something online that broke his strict rules, they’d get a call from Don within the next few minutes. It was safe to say that Louis had a lot of phone calls from Don over the years and--surprise, surprise--they _did not_ get along. 

“ _Fuck_ Don,” Louis laughed, though his tone showed just how bitter he was, “that fuckin’ prick. Jesus.” They both chuckled, even though they knew how humorless that situation really had been, before going back to the comfortable silence they had before. Louis turned on his side, facing Niall and curling his arm under his own head. Niall was still blinking up at the ceiling, not looking like he was going anywhere anytime soon, so Louis let his eyes fall shut, breathing in deeply before letting it out. 

In the silence of the house, Louis could hear Reggie’s nails clicking against the wooden floor as he moved around, and a few moments later he felt the nudge of Reggie’s wet nose against his bare back and _Jesus Christ that was cold!_ Louis flinched, his back arching and spluttering out, “Jesus, Reggie, warn a guy!” He looked over his shoulder, Reggie letting out a pathetic whimper once they finally made eye contact, causing Niall to chuckle. 

“Oh, come on then. You big baby,” Louis said, patting the bed and encouraging Reggie to jump up onto it, which was typically forbidden. (Louis was a huge cuddler and would happily spoon with Reggie on the couch for hours--but he preferred his bed to be dog-hair-free, okay?) Louis scooted closer to Niall to give the old dog room to jump on the bed, and once he did he immediately stomped around, stepping directly onto Louis and making a winded _oof!_ escape his lungs.

Niall couldn’t escape Reggie’s stumbling paws either as he tried to get over Louis’ back and into the space between them. “Me balls!” Niall cried, covering his crotch with both hands as Reggie stepped on his legs. Louis let out a breath of surprised laughter, the bed shaking with it as Louis imitated Niall back to him. 

_“Me balls!”_ he laughed, rolling onto his back. Reggie stepped on his stomach again, causing another winded squeak to come out of his lungs, and for Niall to laugh harder. “Lay down, you fat oaf!” Louis exclaimed, pushing on the dog’s bum until he finally planted himself in between Niall and him. “Jesus Christ,” he laughed, letting his arm drape across the panting dog as Niall laughed beside him. 

“He has _no_ spatial awareness, fuckin’ hell,” Niall laughed, his hand blindly petting the dog’s floppy ears, his eyes still looking up at the ceiling. Louis turned back onto his side, Reggie panting happily between them. The dog’s bum was _way_ too close to Louis’ face in this new position, but Louis would never fall asleep on his back so, whatever. He’d deal with it. 

He tucked his head into the crook of his arm, his other arm draped across the panting dog, letting his eyes fall back shut. Of course the only thing to flash through his mind was Harry and his stupid perfect face-- _God, he had looked so good today, what the fuck._ Beside him, Niall shuffled around again to get more comfortable. 

“This is the most I’ve talked to him since--before,” Louis said, his words mumbled against the skin of his arm. 

“Yeah,” Niall replied, their voices now quiet. 

“Like”--Louis took a deep breath in--”we talked more today than we have in eight fuckin’ years.” 

“Jesus, has it been that long since you guys…?” Broke up. 

Louis slowly exhaled the breath through his nose, which made a quiet whistling sound in the room. “Eight years at the end of this month.” 

“Kinda seems like yesterday,” Niall said after a few minutes of silence, “and it also kinda feels like a lifetime ago.” And-- _yeah._ That’s _exactly_ how it felt. Louis hums out an agreement, letting Niall’s words bounce around in his head. 

“There were moments today that just felt so… I don’t know--normal?” Louis asked, his tone barely above a whisper. 

“It could _be_ normal,” Niall responded quietly. 

“Can it though?” Louis sighed. “Or were we just drinkin’ the [K](http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=drink+the+kool-aid&defid=1774725)ool-Aid together today? Close proximity, and all that,” Louis said, his words coming out slow as he tried to piece it all together. Niall was silent next to him. “It was easy today and felt normal, but there were moments of clarity throughout it… where my brain would catch up with what was happening and I’d, like, panic for a minute.” 

“Yeah,” Niall said, probably so Louis would know he was still listening. 

“Today was great,” Louis sighed. “But… I don't know. I don’t see how we could ever just--go back to that. I don’t know how to be friends with him. I _never_ knew how to be friends with him,” Louis said, his words getting more mumbled the longer he went on. Niall sighed quietly but didn’t say anything, silence washing over them as Louis got lost in thought. 

Lost in Harry. 

Lost in everything they could have been. 

Niall ended up falling asleep at some point, his back now turned to Louis and Reggie, the only noise in the room being Niall’s soft snores. Louis listened to Niall snore for a while, still lost in his thoughts, before he finally sat up and grabbed the throw blanket from the end of the bed to toss over Niall. He turned onto his other side, Reggie pressed up tight against his back and Niall on the other side of him, and finally let his eyes close for the night. 

Maybe everything would be okay (Louis doubted it, but). If not in the long run, at least everything was okay tonight. He had his dog, he had his Niall, he was warm and comfortable in his bed, and for the first time in (almost) eight years--he wasn’t completely heartbroken. 

So, yeah. 

Maybe things would turn out okay.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats on making it through this _beast_ of a chapter! Can we talk about how amazing my timing is, considering tomorrow is the 4th? I may or may not have done this on purpose... MUHAHAHA. (Wtf, I think I was 12 the last time I typed "muhahaha". I just got serious 2002 vibes. Shh, I know I'm old. Most of you were toddlers, Christ.) 
> 
> If you are anything like me, you're now craving hot dogs and potato salad. Seriously, over the last year my bestie/roommate and I have had to go out and buy potato salad _multiple times_ because of this damn chapter. We're super impressionable and pathetic like that. There's also some waiting in our fridge right now. (P.S. I plan on stealing some of that since I didn't get any in time. Kthxloveyou.) 
> 
> Anyway. what did you all think? Thank you so, so, so much to the lovely people that left me feedback on the last chapter. I cannot express how much joy it brings me to get a comment on this story! I'm such a slut for it! I may or may not pathetically check for comments multiple times throughout the day. 
> 
> To my fellow Americans, I hope you have an amazing 4th of July tomorrow! To my fellow non-Americans, I'm sorry you don't get a paid day off tomorrow and hope you can get your hands on some potato salad. If you can't, I'm sorry. (And if you don't _like_ potato salad, I'm even more sorry. I also question your life choices. NOT-SALADS FOR THE WIN.) 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** very _(very)_ mild anxiety attack.

  
[](http://68.media.tumblr.com/4e775bcf7388da4efaa769595d2fea7b/tumblr_otnesgpiRG1vra57po1_500.jpg)  
  


  
As it turned out… _they broke the internet._

Okay, so they didn’t exactly break the internet, but apparently they caused an uproar. Millions and millions of people retweeted it, replied to it, liked it on instagram and--to Louis’ absolute shock-- _almost all of it was positive._ The majority were just so happy to see 3/4 (or 3/5, according to some), band members back together in one picture, that they didn’t care about the context or what they were all doing together. 

But there was also a riot happening with people freaking out over the fact that Louis and Harry were not only together, but that they were _interacting._ They were acknowledging that the other existed for the first time in way too long. The Larry Shippers, as they were known, would always be… there. Louis had a love/hate relationship with them. When Louis and Harry were first together, Louis loved them. He had a secret Twitter and Tumblr account that he would use to keep up with them because, _it was great._

People loved _his love._

But near the end of their relationship, when Eleanor was a big deal and he was constantly fighting with Harry about one thing or another, the Larry Shippers all became nuisances to Louis. They became arguments. They became another reason to keep him from Harry. They ruined a lot of good things. 

Afterwards, when all was said and done, Louis really formed his love/hate relationship. He had his days when he blamed Larry Shippers for ruining everything good in his life (even though it was _not_ their fault), but there were also days when he was glad they were there. Because they proved it happened. Even though they technically never had any _proof_ , it was like an archive of the best times of his life.

Basically, it became a great way to torture himself when he was really drunk. 

Ergo, love/hate relationship.

The Twitter storm had quickly reached Louis’ family and friends, and when he had woken up the next day, it was to an overloaded phone. The oldest of his little siblings, Lottie, was the first text he read. It simply said: **WHAT THE FUCK?????**

Elegance ran in their family, clearly. 

Even Liam had crawled out of whatever hole he had been hiding in, sending him a few texts back to back:

**Ummmmmmmmm** 
**Lol…** 
**Mate……….** 
**Clearly we need to catch up… when did you n Haz get back together? R u back together? I’m so confused.** 
**Like. Really confused. Hit me up when you can. Love ya bro !** 


There were also texts from Louis’ younger siblings, along with Stan and a few other mates who lived back in the UK. Louis was immediately overwhelmed by all the texts and all the questions because-- _he hadn’t processed it himself yet._ He replied to Liam (“ _Loooooooooong story, mate. Skype on Saturday?”_ ), replied to Lottie (“ _Language, Charlotte !!!! I promise to fill you in soon... love you! xx._ ”), and then decided that Future Louis would deal with everybody else. 

It was only eleven in the morning after all, and his head was still fuzzy from yesterday. 

After spending so much time with Harry the day before, Louis used this day as much-needed Harry detox. It was Niall’s last full day in town, but they were both so exhausted from all the antics of the day before that they decided to just veg out on the couch all day and order pizza for dinner. Neither of them had gotten properly dressed that day, Niall in the same outfit that he had slept in, and Louis had traded in his pajama pants for trackies and a hoodie at some point. 

Basically, it was the perfect day. 

“Ugh, I don’t want to go home tomorrow,” Niall groaned after the credits finished rolling on their movie. Neither one of them wanted to get up and change it, so they ended up staring at the title screen while they whined back and forth to each other about Niall leaving. 

“Small town charm has sucked you in, huh?” Louis laughed, rolling over onto his side on the chaise so he could look at Niall. “Can’t resist the pull of a tiny town where everybody knows _everything_ about each other?” he pressed, grinning over at Niall, who laughed along with him. “Or maybe you just don’t want to leave meeee,” Louis said, singing the last word dramatically.

“Ya caught me,” Niall said around a grin. 

“Hate to admit it, but I am gonna miss you, mate,” Louis sighed. “It’s been nice havin’ your lazy arse around here.” 

“Lazy?!” Niall cackled. “You’re one to talk!” Louis threw a couch pillow at him, which started a short-lived war. Basically, until they ran out of pillows within arms reach. They still couldn’t be arsed to get off their respective couches. “Do you know when you’re comin’ home next?” Niall asked after they settled back down. 

Louis sighed. “I’m not sure, yet. I might come back in August for Lottie and Fiz’s birthdays, but they might be too cool to see their big bro--I heard them talking about going to Australia for a while? So. Who knows.” Louis shrugged half heartedly. “It might be a while, mate.” 

“Well, I guess you could always twist me arm to come back here…” Niall trailed off, shooting Louis a sly smirk. “Especially now that _two_ of me mates live in this little buttcrack town.” 

“Hey!” Louis scoffed. “Enough with the buttcrack comparisions! If I had another pillow, I’d be brainin’ you with it right now.”

“Yeah, but, you don’t,” Niall said with an innocent smile. They bantered back and forth for a while after that, eventually discussing details of Niall’s next visit and making a list of things Louis forgot to show Niall while he was in town--things they forgot to do. The list was haphazardly written down on the bottom of a paper plate, which still had pizza grease on it from their dinner, but it would do for now.

“So, Tommo, are you ready for one last serious talk before I leave?” And-- _what?_ Louis furrowed his eyebrows at Niall, assuming that this was going to have something to do with Harry-- _even though it was his detox day, thank you very much_ \--but he waited for Niall to continue all the same. “Bitch, sit up. This is serious,” Niall said, pulling his legs up on the couch to sit cross-legged and face Louis.

Louis started chuckling at the way Niall had phrased it, but then cleared his throat and steeled his expression when he realized how serious Niall was trying to be. Okay, he could play along. He turned on the couch to match Niall’s position, resting his elbows on his knees and staring expectantly at Niall. “Professional,” he commented, lifting an eyebrow at Niall, whose lip twitched in response but he kept his expression serious. 

“Okay, so, like--I’ve been thinking--”

“Never a good thing,” Louis muttered. 

Niall narrowed his eyes, but continued all the same. “And I want you to be completely honest with me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis agreed, nodding his head seriously. 

“Like _really_ honest with me. Brutally honest.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I get it. Honesty all the way. If I’m lyin’, I’m dyin’.” 

“We could do without your sarcasm, but, cool,” Niall said, a smirk finally sneaking onto his face before he quickly wiped it away again. “Okay. So, you know I love you and you know that I take your concerns and feelings _very_ seriously, right?” he asked, waiting for Louis to _mhmm_ before continuing. “And you know that I--like. I get it, okay? I was there. I saw what happened between you two”--Louis _knew_ this was going to be about Harry--”and I like to think that I was there to pick up the pieces with you.” 

“Aw, Neil. You were,” Louis said, his nickname teasing but his smile genuine. 

“Thank you. So, because I was there--and have been there, might I add--I’d say that I’m pretty educated on the topic and think you should be able to trust my professional opinion. Would you agree?” 

“Yes,” Louis said, still using his deep, faux-serious voice. 

“Perfect. Another thing I have going for me--fuck, I feel like this is a job interview,” he laughed, breaking character and they both giggled a bit about it. “No, _shh_ , back to business,” he said when he realized they were getting off course. Louis nodded seriously at him, silently saying _Continue._ “Another thing I have going for me is that I’m _kiiiind_ of a double agent. I mean, obviously my loyalties lie with you, but… I’m also friends with Haz and, well, you know that man can talk for hours about his _‘feelings.’”_

Louis should have laughed, because Niall had added that last bit in clearly to keep this a little bit light-hearted, but Louis’ faux-serious mood was suddenly turning not so faux anymore. 

Niall continued, “So my question to you would be… would it be so bad if you lads tried to have a relationship? And, before you go off on me, I’m not saying a _romantic_ relationship. I’m not tellin’ you to go take him back, or ask him to take you back, or whatever the fuck. I’m just saying that you were in a relationship with him for three years, you’ve known him for _eleven bloody years_ and--that means something, Lou.” 

Louis’ heart was pounding in his chest. 

“You don’t stay in a relationship with somebody for three years just because the dick is good,” Niall said, clearly noticing Louis’ widened eyes and trying to make him chuckle again. “You don’t stay in a relationship for that long just because of--like, the boyfriendy parts. You keep tellin’ me that you don’t know how to be friends with him and that you were never friends, but, Louis.” Niall paused, staring intently into Louis’ eyes and making him want to look away just from the heaviness of it. “You were friends with him that whole time. You were _best_ friends with him and--don’t get me wrong, I love that fact that I’m your number one now--but… you and I both know that I’m”--Niall smiled weakly at him--”a replacement.” 

“You’re _not_ a replacement,” Louis choked out, needing Niall to know that. 

“No, I am, and like--that’s totally fine, bro,” Niall said, still smiling at him. “I get it, remember? I’ve been here with you through it all. And--I’m a damn good replacement, might I add,” Niall said, grinning at Louis. “Top notch, really.” 

“Niall,” Louis said, shaking his head, looking down at the couch beneath him when he realized he didn’t know where he was going with that. So, instead, he just shut his mouth and let Niall continue. 

“Look, bro, what I’m trying to say is… I absolutely love bein’ your best mate, and I’m still going to _be_ your best mate no matter what happens, but you’ve changed a lot over the years. We all have, I know, but I knew you before Harry and I knew you _with_ Harry, and… the person that you are now, _without_ Harry, I just--I feel like you’ve been sellin’ yourself short for years now. You’ve been forcing yourself to be miserable, or somethin’, because--I don’t know. I’m guessing because of how things ended between you two. And it’s just a shame to watch, because you used to be so happy and so carefree and so--” 

“Yeah. I get it,” Louis choked out, still avoiding Niall’s eyes and suddenly feeling like he was going to cry. He wouldn’t, because-- _he was more manly than that_ \--but his eyes stung as Niall’s words played over in his head. 

“Last night when I told you I posted that picture because it just felt right, I was being serious. Not about the picture, but about, like, _everything_. Yesterday was the first time in so long that everything just--felt right. It felt like all the missing puzzle pieces were sliding together, like this is what we have been missing all along. And I haven’t felt that way since before you, you know, broke up. Because immediately afterwards you guys just became--shells of who you used to be.” 

That was...deep as fuck.

“ _I_ didn’t realize that something had been missing from _my_ life until yesterday,” Niall continued, because he clearly had a speech prepared and he wasn’t going to stop until he got everything off his chest. Louis was going to let him, too. “You ‘n Harry, ‘n Payno and Zayn… you guys will always be a huge part of my life. And, like it or not Tommo, we’re always going to be a part of yours. I mean, look at us, bro,” Niall laughed, holding his hands out wide. “It’s been five years since the band split--six years since Zayn split--and yet we’re all still here.” 

Niall carried on, “Maybe we don’t talk every day--I mean, other than you ‘n me, of course, because we’re perfect,” he said, winking at Louis and causing a quiet chuckle to leave his lungs. “And we will probably go months without talkin’ to some of the other lads, and it’s been a long time since we’ve all been together, but--don’t you see?” he asked, his voice quieting down. “We’re part of each other. Bein’ in One Direction gave us this weird, freaky bond that nobody else in the world will ever be able to understand, and no matter how much we hate each other sometimes, we all keep finding our way back to each other.” 

Louis took a deep breath in through his nose, staring down back down at his lap. 

“Which brings me back to my point. I don’t believe in chance--” Niall cut himself off, Louis looking up and meeting his eyes before they both burst out laughing at the stupid town-pun. _“I don’t believe in chance,”_ he repeated, trying to keep his serious tone. “Harry didn’t know you were here and yet, out of all the places in the world, even all the places in _North Carolina_ , he shows up in your town. How the hell does that happen?” Niall asked, throwing his hands up again. 

They were silent for a moment, so Louis grinned and said, _“The fucking odds, bro!”_

“Ugh.” Niall rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you get away with that one, because it goes with what I’m saying. I don’t believe in _chances_ or _coincidences_ or _luck;_ I think Harry being here is because--like--it’s bigger than all that, you know? Him being here, it’s like--it’s fucking fate, man.” 

“So, to review... you don’t believe in chance, coincidences or luck, but you believe in fate?” Louis asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at Niall, who rolled his eyes hard as a response. 

“To put it simply? Yes.” 

“Right,” Louis said, nodding his head once. 

_“Anyway,_ I think he’s here because… you two were destined to be together. Maybe that doesn’t have to be a romantic thing, you know? Maybe you two were just, like, destined to be friends. Destined to be there for each other and fill that hole in your heart that you’re both carrying around with you.” 

Louis blinked at Niall, taking in his words, not knowing how to respond to that--or if he should respond at all. 

Niall was right; of course Niall was right. About everything. But, it wasn’t that simple. 

_Nothing_ was simple when it came to Louis’ life. 

Louis lost a part of himself when he and Harry broke up--Louis had to heal, and mend his broken wounds and get as far away from London as possible. 

So did he have a hole in his heart? _Definitely_ , and it was for _sure_ shaped like Harry Styles. This wasn’t news to anybody--but that hole couldn’t be fixed overnight. And-- _Jesus,_ Louis had to drop the metaphors. 

He shook his head, already getting so lost in his thoughts that he almost missed Niall’s next words. 

“Look around, mate,” he said. “Did you ever think you’d be living in a place like this? _Rural North Carolina_?” 

Louis just shrugged, because… after things had ended with Harry, whatever plans he’d had for the future would never be able to come true. Breaking up with Harry had changed _everything._ Everything he saw for himself in the future was instantly destroyed. 

He told all of this to Niall, following it up with, “So to answer your question, no. But--what’s it matter? Here, London, Antarctica, it _doesn’t_ matter. It’ll never be what I wanted.”

“But now he’s here,” Niall shot back, his tone quiet but serious. 

And--huh. Interesting. 

Niall must have sensed that he finally said something that clicked, because he slowly started to smile at Louis, as if he could actually see the wheels turning in his head. “I don’t know, man,” Louis said, running his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “I can’t imagine a world where I’m--what? _Mates_ with Harry? And we just, like, _hang out?”_ Louis chuckled, though his tone showed anything but amusement. 

“I don’t know,” Niall said, shrugging at him. “I don’t have _all_ the answers.” 

“What do we do, join book club together? Take up a sport? How am I supposed to be able to look at him and talk to him and not… _feel_ things? Not be reminded of what could have been?” Louis asked-- _demanded_. Niall slowly shrugged at him again, and Louis was getting frustrated because _Niall was supposed to have all the answers_! “I think, at the end of the day, yesterday was great because… we had you. We had our buffer. We had our moments alone together, but--I don’t think I can do this without you here to bail me out when I start panicking.” 

Niall seemed to take it all in before slowly nodding. “Okay.” 

“Okay?!” 

“Louis,” Niall chuckled. “I’m not here to force anything on you. I’m not trying to make you upset or make you think about things you don’t want to. You know you better than anybody else does, even me. So if you don’t think it’ll work, if you don’t think you’d be _better off_ with Harry in your life--even if it’s not in the capacity you thought it might be-- _then don’t do it._ This was supposed to help you, not hurt you.”

“I just thought,” Niall continued, “that maybe if you guys could become friends, or even just _casual_ friends--once every few _months_ kind of friends--that maybe it could fill up some of those holes that you left in each other. But, then again, what do I know?” Niall asked, smiling at Louis. “I’m not you. And I’m not Harry. I’ve heard both sides, and I love you both so much, but this… doesn’t involve me. So”--Niall sat back, his palms braced behind him--”I said what I wanted to say. Think it over, and make a decision. The decision that’s right for you, not me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis whispered because--what the fuck else was he supposed to do? His whole world had just flipped on its axis and-- _fuck_. His cheeks were wet. Niall seemed to notice at the same time because he instantly frowned, quickly getting up and making his way towards Louis with a concerned look on his face. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” Louis insisted, angrily wiping at his eyes-- _how dare they betray him like this._

Niall wrapped his body around Louis’ with no regard for personal space, nuzzling his face in between Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ wet cheek, basically sitting in his lap. That only made more tears spring to Louis’ eyes and _what the fuck was wrong with him?_ He never cried! (Okay, he _rarely_ cried.) “I’m sorry,” Niall said, his voice muffled into Louis’ neck. “I honestly didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“You didn’t,” Louis said, shaking his head, moving his arm around the boy in his lap to wipe at his stupid tears again. “Really. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Louis said around a wet chuckle. Niall pulled back, scooting back a little until he was sitting directly in front of Louis’ bent knees, still frowning deeply at him, his eyes not dropping from Louis’. 

“I just want you to be happy again, Lou,” Niall said, looking at the tear tracks that stained Louis’ cheek with a frown. Louis frantically wiped at his cheeks again, willing his eyes to stop producing tears--but once he got going, he usually cried for a while. He wasn’t a sobber, never had been, but his eyes seemed to produce a stupid amount of tears to make up for the fact he was usually silent during it. 

“I am happy,” Louis said, shrugging slightly. “Like, most of the time. This place used to make me happy.” 

“Used to?” Niall asked, with no judgement. 

Louis shrugged again, avoiding Niall’s glance and wiping another stupid tear that had snuck out. “I don’t know anymore.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes after that, the only sounds in the room being the clock ticking from its spot on the wall and Louis’ quiet sniffles every once in a while. Finally, Niall set his hands down on top of Louis’ folded legs to get his attention. Louis sniffled again before looking over at Niall, making eye contact for the first time in a few minutes. 

“I… could change my flight, you know,” he whispered. 

“No,” Louis said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that--just because of _this_ ,” he said, waving his hand in front of his stupid tear-stained face. “I’ll be fine,” Louis insisted, forcing a smile onto his face. 

“I know you’ll be fine, but I also know that I _could_ change my flight. Lily would understand if I wanted to stay a few extra days--it’s no biggie.” 

“Niall,” Louis said, smiling fondly at his best friend, “I love you.” 

“I love you too, mate.” 

“Thank you. For everything. For being you, for saying all those things to me, for _wanting_ to change your flight. You--mean the world to me and I don’t know what I would do without you. I wouldn’t have made it through these past few years without you, that’s for sure,” Louis said, still smiling at Niall. “But-- _go home_. Go home to your girlfriend and your life. I--will be fine. I _am_ fine. You know how weepy I get once I start crying, that’s all this is,” he said, another wet chuckle leaving his lungs. 

Niall looked at him for a few moments, seeming to be contemplating. “If you’re sure,” he finally said. 

“I’m sure,” Louis said, smiling brightly at Niall, despite his drippy nose. “And--I’ll think about it. What you said. _I heard you_ ,” Louis said, his tone serious. “I promise I will at least consider it before I decide to just, like, go off and disappear into the woods once and for all.” 

Niall narrowed his eyes at him. “Not funny, mate.” 

“S’little funny,” Louis said, sniffling. 

“Okay,” Niall said, nodding once. “So. Good talk, amiright?!” 

Louis rolled his wet eyes.

_Fucking Niall Horan._  
  


* * *

  
  
“You know, if this was a pre-9/11 world, Neil, I would _totes_ come say goodbye to you at your gate and wave your plane off and everything,” Louis said, unloading Niall’s suitcase from the back of his Rove, and setting it down on the ground next to him. He really needed to stop saying “totes,” but every time he picked up a word ironically, it would eventually become part of his everyday speech. That was also how he started obnoxiously abbreviating things; it was definitely Niall’s fault. He pulled the lift gate shut and turned around to face Niall. “But, it’s not. So--you know. I guess this will have to do?” Louis asked, grinning brightly at his friend. 

They were standing in the departure drop-off zone at the airport, the Rove idling in front of them as they pretended like they weren’t sad about the fact Niall was leaving. They had stayed up late the night before, after their _“serious talk,”_ eating the rest of their cold pizza and sharing a pint of Ben  & Jerry’s Phish Food ice cream (the only cure to rid Louis of his weepiness), while Friends reruns played in the background.

They hadn’t gone to bed until the sun was coming up, so they ended up sleeping until almost one in the afternoon. They lounged around the house for a while, Niall slowly packing up his bags and leaving them by the door, and had finally left for Raleigh-Durham at around three. Now it was just after four, and Louis knew it was going to take him much longer to get home due to Friday afternoon traffic, but that was fine. 

He wasn’t in a rush to get back to his now-empty house anyway. 

“Thanks again for comin’ all the way here,” Louis said, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his skinnies. “And, you know, for everything else.” 

“Of course.” Niall grinned, holding his arms out wide and waiting for Louis to hug him. Louis rolled his eyes but hugged him all the same, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. They shared one last smile before Niall grabbed the handle of his suitcase and headed off into the airport. Louis sighed quietly, standing outside his car and watching the back of Niall’s head until he blended in with the crowd. 

Louis slowly walked around to the driver's seat and pulled the door open. After sitting down, he rested his head against the steering wheel for a few moments, breathing in deeply, before finally driving off and leaving the airport in his rearview mirror. He drove in silence for a long while, thinking about everything that had happened over the last week and how much had changed. 

Jesus, a week ago his worst fear was running into Harry around town. 

Now… Harry’s phone number was burning a hole in his pocket. 

When he had woken up that morning (afternoon…), he had walked into the kitchen to feed Reggie his breakfast when he noticed something pinned to his fridge by some of the alphabet magnets he had (which were totally for when his littlest siblings visited, _not_ because he liked to spell out dirty words with them). He squinted at the paper, having to take a few steps closer towards the fridge because his glasses were still sitting on his nightstand, Reggie whining behind about his still-empty food bowl. 

In Niall’s chicken scratch, the note said: _Harry’s new number, FOR INFORMATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY (or whatever…)_ , followed by the number scrawled across underneath. Louis took a deep breath in, staring at the numbers until his eyes went out of focus. Any other time, he would have chuckled at Niall’s choice of colored magnets (C, O, C and K), but right now he was too busy overthinking everything to see the humor in it. He looked down at Reggie, who was sitting impatiently next to him giving him a look that read, _Bro. Aren’t you forgetting something?_ and--oh. Right. He was supposed to be feeding him. 

Louis dragged himself away from the fridge, opening the container that held Reggie’s food and dropping a scoopful into his red bowl. Louis stroked the dog’s back for a moment as he began crunching on the food, before heading back towards his room to take a shower. He paused again by the fridge, staring at the note again (which was written on… Louis’ water bill. Thanks for that, Neil), before shaking his head and continuing on down the hall. 

He ended up passing that fucking note four more times before he finally dug his phone out and updated the Harry contact in it. He had been slipping his phone back into his pocket just as Niall had stumbled into the kitchen for the first time that morning--afternoon--and had given Louis a knowing smile. Fucking bastard. He’d have to remember to spell out _I despise you_ in the chunky children’s magnets before Niall left that day. (Spoiler alert: he forgot.) 

But that was hours ago, and now Louis was numbly driving back towards Chance, wondering what the fuck he was supposed to do with Harry’s number. He thought back to his conversation with Niall from the night before, his brain still trying to figure out how he and Harry could ever be friends. He wasn’t sure how anything was going to work--he had _way_ too much history with Harry to just toss all those feelings aside and become friends.

But… Niall’s words wouldn’t get out of his head; all the points that Niall had made before were haunting him. 

He _had_ been selling himself short for years and something had been holding him back from ever really trying to move on. Jesus, it had been eight years and Louis hadn’t had anything more serious than a couple of one-night stands. But the thought of getting back into an actual, romantic relationship with Harry was enough to make Louis physically ill because--it was too much. _Way_ too much. Louis was just slowly getting around to the idea that maybe, _possibly_ they could be friends again, but he wouldn’t think about anything more serious than that. He’d push that to the deepest corner of his mind and forget about it. He could only focus on the thought of _somehow_ becoming friends. 

One step at a time, right? 

That’s what Niall would tell him. 

Louis pulled off the main freeway forty minutes after dropping Niall off, the rest of the drive to Chance being a small two-lane highway that was nothing but trees on either side of the road, his head starting to pound with how hard he was thinking. Finally, Louis couldn’t take it anymore and he pulled over to the side of the road, knowing that _he definitely shouldn’t be driving a car_ for what he was about to do. 

He put the Rove in park and canted his hips up off the seat so he could wiggle his phone out of his pocket, his bum plopping back down into the seat afterwards (skinny jeans really were _the worst_ ). Sure, they made his arse look good, but he much preferred his new wardrobe that consisted of practical clothing more fit for blending in around Chance. 

He swiped the phone unlocked and pulled up his contacts, quickly scrolling down to Harry’s before he chickened out or talked himself out of it. He took a deep breath in, holding it in for as long as he could stand before exhaling and pressing the call button. 

The ringing came through the speakers of his car and he let his head fall back against the headrest, listening as it rang and trying to ignore the pounding in his chest. He was pretty positive he wasn’t breathing at all at this point, but--who needs air, right? Maybe it’d be best for everybody if he just passed out. (Another reason why he had decided to pull over. Passing out was always a possibility when it came to Harry.)

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, the ringing stopped and the line clicked over, a faint rustling sound happening before Harry’s deep voice said, “Hello?” 

“Hi,” Louis said, bringing a hand to his chest because _Jesus Christ calm the fuck down, heart._ “It’s me,” he said dumbly, then shook his head and clarified, “um--Louis.” 

“Yeah--yeah, I know, sorry--hi. Um… everything alright?” 

“Yeah. Fine. Everything is fine. How are you?”

“Good. I’m good,” Harry said. _Fucking breathe, Louis._ They both went silent and Louis’ eyes widened down at his steering wheel because _what the fuck now?_ Why didn’t he come up with a game plan before calling? It was all he had been thinking about since Raleigh--since he woke up and found Harry’s number on his fridge, really--but in all his thoughts he never got past _Hi._

Jesus, Louis was an idiot. 

He took a deep breath in, knowing that he needed to just man the fuck up and get this over with. 

“Do you want to, like”--Louis scratched at his temple--”I don’t know. Hang out? Get a coffee? Or, like, are you hungry or something? ‘Cause I haven’t had dinner, if you wanted to do that instead? Fuck, I’m sorry, I should have thought this through before calling,” Louis laughed nervously, his words coming out at top speed and just this side of frantic. 

“Yes,” Harry said instantly, chuckling nervously as well. “Yes to all of that, I mean.” Harry laughed another nervous laugh and _oh my god they were really doing this. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._ “Whatever you want to do is--uh--fine with me,” he said, and Louis had to squeeze his eyes shut because this was seemingly _too_ easy. “But…” 

Oh. 

There it was.

There was always a but. 

_Why was there always a but?!_

Louis’ eyes shot open, his fingers tensing around the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. He bit down hard on his bottom lip, waiting for Harry to finish his rejection. _Fuck_ , Louis was so fucking stupid. Why had he ever decided this was a good idea? 

You know what a good idea was? Not existing with Harry Styles for the last eight years. That was a fucking brilliant idea, mate. Fucking brill. 

He set himself up for this. He totally deserved it. He was so fucking stupid. 

Louis’ head was spinning. 

“But I’m not in Chance right now,” Harry’s slow, deep voice finally finished his sentence and--wait, what? He listened as Harry let out a long exhale. “Hanging out with you and Ni’ the other day had me… I don’t know--feeling like I was missing something? Like, I had a great time the other night, don’t get me wrong, it just made me miss... home.” 

“Home…?” Louis repeated, trying to keep up with Harry’s words, and he was thankful that Harry spoke slower than molasses because he would have definitely missed something otherwise. His head was still reeling and his heart was pounding so hard he thought, rather dumbly, that his chest should be bruised by now. 

“Cheshire,” Harry said and-- _what the fuck_? “I’m, um--I’m in Holmes Chapel.” 

“Oh,” Louis said, taking everything in.

Harry was in fucking _England?_

What the _fuck?_

He had just seen him two days ago and--when the fuck did this happen? 

Why did this happen? 

Louis thought that it was almost fitting. Harry had shown up unexpectedly and left just the same way. 

Louis’ life was so fucking annoying. 

“Yeah,” Harry laughed awkwardly, that same nervous laughter that Louis wasn’t used to hearing from him. “I almost gave my mum a heart attack when I showed up at her doorstep out of the blue. Her face was kinda priceless though,” he said, and Louis knew he should acknowledge that Harry was speaking, make a grunting noise at the very least, but _nothing_ was coming out. Thankfully, Harry just continued on in his slow voice. “I wanted to surprise Gemma up in Manchester too, but apparently mum has already spilled the beans on that one. So.”

_Are you coming back?_

Louis forcibly swallowed the lump in his throat, wanting to ask him but not knowing how. He wanted to ask him so fucking bad that he could taste it--he swore he could _taste_ the words coming off his tongue, asking him those four simple words. Four _simple_ fucking words that terrified the shit out of him because-- _what if he said no?_ What if he had checked out of his cabin and left Chance behind for good? 

He was never here permanently, after all. He was just here while the inspiration flowed. While the scenery inspired. He wasn’t here for Louis, he didn’t come here for Louis. If anything, Louis had probably ruined the town’s aesthetic for him, or whatever hipster term Harry was using nowadays. Louis was surprised he hadn’t gone running back to England at the first sight of him. 

Fuck… _fuck_ , Louis was so fucking stupid for calling.

For thinking they could be mates, or whatever the hell he thought this was going to be. 

Fucking Niall Horan--making him _think_ shit. Louis was going to send him a strongly worded text immediately after this. 

Harry was never coming back and now Louis was going to have to get over him _all over again._

“I’m…” Harry whispered, breaking Louis’ frantic thoughts. Louis let his head fall back against the headrest again, bringing his balled fists up and pressing them hard into his eyes, waiting for Harry to finish his sentence. _Not coming back. Sorry, Louis. I’ll see you around, or whatever. Probably not._ Louis pressed his fists even harder into his stupid eyes. Harry cleared his throat, then finally continued in a hoarse voice, “I’ll--be back. In a week. Maybe two, I haven’t quite… decided. This wasn’t exactly planned.” 

Louis’ head shot up, his fists dropping to his lap and his eyes widening because _what?_

Louis was aware that he hadn’t said anything in a long time and that he should probably let Harry know he was still listening, that he hadn’t hung up on him, but--he was about to pass out from the whirlwind of emotions he had just put himself through. _Jesus Christ._ “Oh,” Louis finally said, and he was pretty sure that was the only word he had said since this whole conversation started.

Had he lost his entire vocabulary? Had Harry finally reduced him to a pile of mud? 

“Yeah. I just wanted to let you know that. That I’d be back, I mean. If you were--wondering. Which you probably weren’t”--Harry nervously chuckled--”but, yeah. I didn’t, like...” _Abandon Louis completely?!_ “Just leave without...” _Ripping Louis’ heart out of his chest?!_ “Saying… anything. Not like…” _The last time._ Harry coughed, paused, and then said, “Anyway. I’ll be back in a week or two.”

Louis was going to throw up. 

“Okay,” Louis said, finally finding his voice and somehow not puking all over his dashboard. “I’ll--see you when you get back then, yeah?” he said, and was extremely proud of the fact he _almost_ sounded like a normal human being when he said it. His voice sounded foreign to him, but, maybe it hadn’t sounded that bad through the speakers of his car. Or something. 

This was fine. 

He was going to get his heart working again, process everything Harry had just told him and then be totally fine. 

Totes fine. 

Yes. 

Right. 

He also may throw up on the side of the road, but, really--there was nobody around to watch. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and Louis’ thoughts were going so fast he had to stop and remind himself what Harry was agreeing to. Right. They’d see each other when he got back. Okay--that was… happening. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, bringing his hands up to run through his hair and then down his scruffy face, trying to get the blood flowing back through his body. “Hey, Louis?” 

“Yeah, Harry?” he whispered. 

Louis held his breath, his eyes squeezed shut as he waited for whatever Harry was going to ruin his life with next. He listened as Harry let a long puff of air out of his lungs, the silence seeming to stretch on forever between them, and Louis knew that Harry sometimes _took a while_ to say something, but for fuck’s sake. He was going to die before Harry finished his sentence. “Never mind. Take care, yeah? I’ll--see you when I get back.” 

_Fucking mother fucker shit-bagging whore._

Harry Styles was going to be the death of him! Why did he keep doing this to him?! 

“Yeah,” Louis found himself saying, instead of the long string of cuss words that were at the tip of his tongue, because, seriously, if Harry fucking Styles started a sentence and then didn’t finish it _one more fucking time_ , Louis was bound to find himself a nice bridge to jump off of. “See you then.” 

The call disconnected and Louis stared hard at his dashboard, his thoughts flying through his head so quickly he could barely determine what they were. He calmly looked over his shoulder, verified there was no oncoming traffic, and then got out of his car. He strolled around to the other side of the car into the overgrown grass and proceeded to throw up all over it. His eyes watered as he retched, coughing afterwards and bracing his hands against his thighs as he panted. 

He waited until his breathing went back to normal before spitting on the ground once more, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and then calmly walking back around the Rove to the driver’s seat. He clicked his seatbelt on after wiping at his eyes with the bottom of his shirt, and then stepped on the brake and shifted the car into gear. 

He glanced over his shoulder once more before he pulled back out onto the small highway, his eyes staring numbly at the road ahead of him as his tongue rolled around in his sour mouth. He hated how vulnerable he had felt for those few moments when he thought Harry wasn’t coming back to Chance. Wouldn’t life be easier if he _didn’t_ come back? This was _Louis’ town,_ right? 

...Right? 

Where had the fired-up Louis from the Pig Wig gone? Where had _he_ fucked off to? 

Louis audibly sighed, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel and clearing his throat. When he told Niall the story later on, he would definitely leave out a few things; like his body’s reaction to pretty much everything Harry had said. The panic he had felt when Louis thought he had left Chance for good--and the vomit he left back on the side of I-22. 

Yeah--Niall didn’t need to know _everything._

The rest of the drive home was spent in a mild-state of _what the fuck just happened?_ Louis had replayed their conversation in his head probably a million times. He had replayed it so many times that it was starting to get hazy on what Harry _actually_ said, and what Louis’s thoughts had morphed it into. His head was pounding and his stomach hurt, but the confirmation that Harry hadn’t left Chance for good still made Louis’ pathetic little heart flutter. 

_Fucking Harry Styles._

Louis hadn’t expected to hear from Harry until he got back-- _per Harry’s own words during their conversation_ \--so when Louis’ phone lit up the next night while he was sprawled out on the couch, the last person he expected the text to be from was Harry. His heart stuttered in his chest as he swiped the phone open to read the full message.

**I can’t get used to the time difference. I used to be so good at jet lag, what the hell happened?** 


Jesus Christ they were texting now?! Harry always texted so proper, just like he spoke. He never used abbreviations or chatspeak and hardly ever made any typos-- _ever._ Louis specifically remembered sending dirty texts back and forth with Harry back in the day, and even then he would rarely ever make a mistake. Even when he was typing with one hand while jerking off with the other. 

Louis shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut tightly because _what the fuck?_ He should _not_ be thinking about sexting Harry when he’s supposed to be _texting_ him instead. He should not be thinking about sexting Harry _ever_. Fucking hell. Louis read the message a few more times, his heart fluttering in his chest as he tried to think of how he should respond. His eyes travelled around the room as he thought, blankly staring at the TV--the images never really making it to his mind. 

Just act natural. _You’re mates._ Right. 

That didn’t stop him from asking himself, _WWMGD?_

Monica Geller would be _breezy._

Louis could totes be breezy. 

He sat up straighter on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning the Friends episode to mute before grabbing his phone again. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he tried to determine what the hell breezy even _meant._ Maybe he should google it. He shook his shoulders out, cracking his neck to the left and then to the right, before finally typing out a totally breezy reply.

_Mattteeeee_ 
_Right !!!!!_ 
_Weird how that life skill kinda just goes away yea ?_ 


Louis was breezy as _fuck._

He did have the horrible habit of being a multi-texter though, while Harry had always been very precise and a one-long-text kind of guy.

Louis, on the other hand, had never been ashamed to spam somebody’s phone. 

He was breezy, after all. 

That seemed like something a breezy person would do. (Louis really needed to google what the fuck breezy meant). 

Before he could pull up google to ask though, his phone buzzed again as Harry responded.

**Very. I should be sleeping.** 


Louis glanced at the clock on his phone, quickly adding five hours and realizing it was only four in the morning in Cheshire. Harry _should_ be sleeping. But the last time Louis had been home, he had run into the same problem. Maybe one of the horrible side effects of getting old was being incapable of escaping jet lag? Oh god, he was lucky he was retired, because he would _not_ survive touring if that were the case.

Right--he had to focus.

_What r you doing then ?_ 
_If not sleepin_ 
_?_ 


After Louis had sent it, he had the horrific thought that _maybe that didn’t come out right._ What if Harry thought Louis was--being one of _those_ guys? One of those creepy guys that you can’t say anything like _“Sorry, ‘bout to hop in the shower!”_ to because they’ll respond with a winking emoji and a _“Without me?”_ and--Louis was not that kind of guy! 

He was a fucking breezy guy, damn it! 

The typing bubble appeared underneath Louis’ last text and he kind of wanted to throw his phone out of the window instead of waiting for the response. Louis really needed to start thinking things through before just hitting send. Maybe there were benefits after all to being a one-long-text kind of lad versus the rapid fire, not thought out, full of typos and weird autocorrects, kind of lad.

Fuck. 

WWMGD?!?!?!?!

Finally his phone buzzed in his hand again and it broke him out of his panicked thoughts.

**I’m sitting in my mum’s kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. I gave up on trying to sleep about an hour ago. The weather is nice here though, not humid like I’m sure it is in Chance. It’s not even raining. Go figure.** 


Oh, thank God, Harry had _actually_ responded to his question. (Of course he did, Harry Styles was perfect. Shit.)

Louis bit down on his smile. Everything about that text was just-- _so Harry._ Jesus, Louis had missed that. He could hear Harry’s stupid slow voice in his head every time he reread it. His stupid never-ending sentences that would take him days to spit out sometimes. _Fuck_ , Louis had missed texting Harry so fucking bad and he hadn’t even realized it until he read Harry’s stupid, long, _mundane_ response. 

Louis was so fucked. 

They ended up texting for the next few hours, Harry recapping everything that had happened back home so far and then immediately asking how Reggie was doing, which may or may not have made Louis whimper a bit because-- _he was sensitive when it came to his dog, okay?_ He had almost melted into a big pile of gooey feelings after watching Harry interact with Reggie the other day, so, whatever. 

It wasn’t like Harry could _hear_ him whimper. 

Louis told him about his and Niall’s lazy day after the 4th (conveniently leaving out their late night heart-to-heart, because he wasn’t fucking crazy), and then asked Harry what his plans for the next few days were and who all he was going to visit while back home. He was surprised when Harry said he was staying low-key and that he didn’t plan on seeing anybody except for his family. Louis had expected him to list off a hundred names of “friends” Louis didn’t know, tell him he would hit up a party or two or maybe spend all of his time in some hipster cafe. 

It was clear that Louis _really_ didn’t know Harry at all anymore and he didn’t know how that made him feel. 

On one hand, he was definitely sad about it, because it was never nice knowing just how far you’ve grown apart from somebody. But at the same time, it kind of gave Louis a thrill because--now he was going to get to know a whole new Harry Styles. He’d get to figure out who he was, and who he hung out with, and what he had been doing for the past five years since 1D broke up, and--that was kind of exciting.

It also scared the shit out of Louis. 

They texted back and forth until Louis’ eyes were burning because he was so tired, but he didn’t want to tell Harry he was going to bed because-- _this was a big deal._ No matter how hard he had tried to be Monica Geller a few hours ago, this conversation was anything but breezy. Even if they were only about boring, everyday things. 

It was progress. They were learning how to exist to each other--Louis couldn’t just ruin that by falling asleep. 

Niall’s voice from the other day played through his head: _“We’ll sleep when we’re dead, lads!”_

Louis had transitioned into his bedroom at some point, because his phone’s battery was drained from their constant back and forth. Once the phone was charging, and Louis was propped up against the headboard, he went back to his text thread with Harry and his heart skipped a beat when he realized that Harry had sent him a picture. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, clicking on the picture to expand it and--okay, it wasn’t like it was a dick pic or anything--the picture was of his mum’s back garden. 

Harry had just said that he had moved outside now that the sun was up and shining, attaching the picture along with it for reference and--holy shit. It was like nothing had changed at all. Which was ridiculous, because it definitely had, but Louis found himself zooming in on the different things in the picture because--it was familiar. 

Everything was familiar.

He had _been_ in that garden. 

He could tell Harry was sitting on the couch out there _just from the angle alone._ He could see Harry’s propped up feet at the bottom of the picture, and Louis found himself zooming in on those, too, because--he’s creepy. Whatever. Nobody had to know. There was a mug of tea on the table next to his feet, and behind that Louis was able to see the grill that Harry had gifted the family all of those years back, back when they were together. 

Louis’ chest ached. 

It ached for Harry, for what they used to be, for what they _could have been_ if they hadn’t ruined it. 

It ached for _England._

And--that was unexpected. Because Louis didn’t get homesick anymore. He missed his family, sure, and he missed his mates that still lived there. But he never found himself homesick for _England._

Because England just reminded him of everything he couldn’t have. 

His mum. 

Harry. 

Happiness. 

Everything he dreamed of having back when he was twenty-one and stupid and so in love it hurt. 

But now, just from one stupid picture of Anne’s garden, he found himself _homesick._ Homesick for everything that Britain was for him. Missing his siblings. Missing his mum so much it took his breath away. Missing Harry and missing all the places they went together. Missing that fucking house that was supposed to be his _home_ , but sits empty for ninety-nine percent of the year because it’s too painful to visit. Missing the flat that was no longer in either of their names, but would always hold a place in his heart because it had been _theirs._

Fuck. 

_Fuck._

Louis quickly locked his phone and shoved it under his pillow, scared of everything that just happened to him and everything Harry just made him feel. He wasn’t supposed to miss England. He wasn’t ever supposed to miss England again. _This_ was his home--he was just as American as the guy next door, accent and citizenship aside. 

Red, white and blue. 

Land of the free and home of the brave. 

_This_ was his home. 

This is where he belonged. 

Louis was definitely panicking now, his breaths coming out in sharp, short bursts, and he could feel the sweat building underneath his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, very aware of the fact he was a few seconds away from having a full-blown panic attack. He blindly reached for the TV remote, slapping the nightstand a few times before his shaking fingers finally came in contact with it. He quickly turned it on and the bright light of the TV lit up the whole room. 

He fumbled to change the channel, turning it to ESPN Sports Center just so he could see the baseball highlights from that evening, because it seemed like the most American thing he could do at the moment _and he was three seconds away from having a panic attack about god damned England, so leave him alone!_ “I love America,” he whispered to himself, curling back up on his side and staring at the television, breathing in deeply through his nose and holding it for two seconds, then breathing out through his mouth.

Then repeating.

_He wasn’t going to have a panic attack over a fucking picture._

He kept focusing on his breathing, the telly flashing in front of him, showing him highlights from a sport he didn’t even follow, giving himself a pep talk in his mind to keep himself from spiraling out of control. _You’re not homesick. You’re not_ Harrysick. _You’re perfectly fine here and you’ll be perfectly fine until Harry comes back. Even if Harry never comes back._ Especially _if Harry never comes back! Because you love it here. This is your home. This is who you are. This is the place that fixed you. This. Is. Your. Home._

Louis ended up falling asleep eventually, the TV still quietly playing on the other side of the room. His knees were curled up tightly to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, his phone still hidden away from him so he couldn’t be tempted to say something he’d regret. To tell Harry how much he missed everything. How much he missed him. 

He slept, but he dreamt of Harry. 

Of course. 

_Fucking Harry Styles._  
  


* * *

  
  
The next week went by like a blur for Louis; he still didn’t know how he felt about the whole thing, either. They had been texting back and forth ever since that first night, when Louis had basically panic-attacked himself to sleep, and sometimes it was great. Louis’ heart fluttered every time his phone buzzed, because it wasn’t just a stupid notification or reminder, it was _Harry._

Saying something to him. 

Because _they existed to each other._

Because they were… friends? And that's what friends… do? 

But other times, Louis hated it. 

Because-- _they were friends?!?!?!_

It wasn’t that he _hated_ it, because he knew that was a lie and not the right word, but he was _scared_ , okay? He was scared to get close to Harry again because--well. He doesn’t know what would happen once Harry _wasn’t there_. Louis was terrified to let him back in, in any form, but he was also too scared to stop now that they had started. 

Fuck. 

Louis’ life was _really_ fucking complicated. 

And Niall, bless him, was no fucking help. 

And when Louis told him as much, Niall had just shrugged and said, “Mate, I already did all the heavy lifting on this one. You’re on your own for a while!” If their Skype session _tragically_ got disconnected after that--totally by accident; Louis _definitely_ didn’t click on disconnect or anything--then neither of them were going to mention it. 

There were also times over the last few days when Louis would be feeling relativly normal, like his life wasn’t a teenage soap opera waiting to happen, and then _boom._ Harry would text him something that would make Louis whimper pathetically at his phone and then smile for _way_ longer than is considered socially acceptable. That was when he’d usually end up melting into a ball on the couch and pointedly avoiding Reggie’s judgemental glances. 

But as the days turned into a full week, and their texting became more of a habit and less of a _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck,_ Louis couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what it would be like when Harry got back to Chance. They seemed to be getting the whole _texting_ thing down, but… would they be able to do it face to face? Could they _actually be friends?_

_Without a buffer?!_

It was both terrifying and exciting to Louis. 

But those thoughts always led him to one question: _When was Harry coming back?_ He had said a week, maybe two, but what did that mean exactly? It had been a week! Louis wanted fucking flight itineraries, okay? But… he couldn’t ask him for that. He couldn’t even bring himself to ask him _Hey, pal, when exactly are you coming home?_ So, instead, he was left to agonize over it and wish Harry would just casually mention it in conversation one day. 

But he wouldn’t. Because Harry Styles could be _really_ fucking annoying when he wanted to be. 

Not that Louis _really_ thought Harry was doing it on purpose--because Harry was too nice to do that--but Louis wasn’t going to blame _himself_ for not asking Harry when he was coming home. So. Yes. Harry Styles was a vague, detail-excluding prick. 

Right. 

That following Wednesday afternoon, Louis found himself at the soccer field watching his under-twelve kids who practiced on Wednesdays running back and forth down the field, listening--but not really listening--to what the head coach was yelling from the sidelines. He had picked up some sort of phone separation anxiety since he and Harry had _become friends?! What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!_ And he found himself staring longingly at the Rove in the parking lot, where he knew his phone sat in the cup holder, probably full of Harry Styles texts and _fuck._

Louis needed to get a fucking grip. 

He could _totes_ be away from his phone for an hour and focus on coaching the young minds of Chance on how to properly play some footie. In fact, it was probably healthy for him to be away from his phone for a while ( _definitely_ healthy). But if that was the case, he’d actually be paying attention to what the kids were doing instead of staring at the side of his white car that was parked on the other side of the field.

His poor, lonely phone. 

“You alright there, Mr. T?” Jamie asked, jogging backwards past Louis along the sidelines as the kids changed their position on the field. Louis quickly shook himself from his thoughts and nodded, jogging to catch up to Jamie and following him down the field, pretending like he was paying attention to the practice, and not being a twat about his phone. “You wanna talk about it?” Jamie pressed, pausing to return the ball that had gone racing past them, then turning his attention back to Louis. 

“Nah, mate. Nothing to talk about.” 

“If you say so,” Jamie said around a smirk, rolling his eyes at Louis. Then, because Jamie was a little shit, he said while wiggling his eyebrows, “Boy-trouble in paradise?”

If Louis tripped him up when they had turned to jog back down to the other side of the field, thankfully nobody witnessed it. Jamie rolled himself back to a standing position and shoved Louis with both hands, laughing at him and calling him an asshole. But Jamie had totes deserved that. The rest of the practice went by without incident; Louis got the amazing job of handing out water bottles and boxes of apple juice to the kids, instead of having to clean up all the equipment, so he couldn’t complain too much. 

He had even managed to forget about his phone for a little while--but as soon as he found himself heading towards his car, his heart picked up at the prospect of what was waiting for him. He quickly unlocked the car, settling down into the hot leather seats and stuffy air, before turning the air con on and hurriedly grabbing his phone and clicking the screen on and--oh. 

He had no new texts. 

Okay. Right. That was totally fine. It wasn’t like he was _expecting_ any… 

He had no reason to expect any. 

They didn’t text _constantly_ throughout the day, and Louis had only been on the field for about an hour and a half today, so, right. This made perfect sense. Louis definitely didn’t _pout_ on the way home, or _stomp around a little_ while feeding Reggie his dinner. And a few hours later, when Louis was preparing his own meal (boxed macaroni and cheese, because _he really was the worst in the kitchen_ ), Louis _definitely_ wasn’t frowning into the pot of boiling pasta or anything. 

He was a grown man, after all. 

He sighed quietly to himself as he was draining the pasta and dumping it back into the still-hot pan. He knew he needed to calm himself down, make sure he wasn’t getting too attached already because, Jesus Christ, it had only been a week or so since they became friends again, and already Louis was getting cross when his phone went silent for a few hours? Louis bit down on his bottom lip, tearing open the package of orange powdered cheese and dumping it over the noodles. 

Once everything was prepared, he grabbed himself a beer and headed out onto his back porch with the steaming bowl of macaroni in his hand. He sat down on one of the chairs that he had bought a few months back; the matching black wicker rocking chairs had comfortable cushions that made his bum sink down in a pleasant way. He set his beer down on the tiny table next to him before curling his legs up into the oversized chair and taking a few bites of his macaroni, listening to the sounds of the bugs chirping and the owls hooting off in the distance. 

It wasn’t until he was halfway through his dinner that he heard the faint sounds of his phone ringing from inside the house. Nobody needed to know how quickly he darted off of the chair and back inside the house, his socked feet slipping on the wooden floor as he slid in front of the couch, grabbing his phone off the cushion and-- _oh._ Harry was FaceTiming him _what the fuck._

They weren’t _there!_ They didn’t FaceTime! They had just gotten this texting thing down! 

Louis started at his own reflection in the ringing iPhone, quickly fussing with his hair that had dried weirdly after his shower and _why didn’t Harry text him first?_ He took a look down at the black trackies and grey tee he was wearing and frowned, knowing there was no time to change. He took a deep breath in, then pressed the accept button and headed back outside, staring intently at the phone as it tried to connect the call. 

Suddenly the screen was filled with Harry’s grinning face and Louis couldn’t help but bite down on his own smile, trying not to look like the Harry Styles groupie he had become. He pulled his legs up onto the chair, trying his best to keep his smile under control as he stared at Harry’s face and-- _god he had missed him._ Even though it had only been a little over a week, _what the fuck, get yourself under control Louis._

“Hiiiiii Louis,” Harry beamed and-- _Louis knew that voice._ It had been a long, _long_ time but he recognized that voice instantly. 

Louis’ grin grew across his face at the realization, unable to keep it contained now. “Harold, are you _drunk_?” he asked, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he could think better of it. The nickname still caught them both off guard, which was evident on Harry’s face, but if anything--it only made his drunk smile turn even brighter. 

“Maybe,” he replied flippantly with a shrug of his shoulders. Louis inspected the grainy image of Harry, his wilted almost-quiff that he had clearly run his hands through one too many times and his floral patterned shirt that, from what Louis’ limited view showed, had one too many buttons open. As usual. It kind of made Louis’ head hurt. 

“What ‘ave you been drinking, then?” Louis smiled, reaching down to pick up his half-eaten bowl of macaroni (which he had set directly on the ground in his dash to get to his phone). His question reminded him of his own untouched beer and he reached over to take a sip of that as well while Harry replied. 

“Umm,” Harry trailed off, tipping his head back and stroking his chin as if he had to really think hard about Louis’ question, and _Jesus Christ how drunk was he?_ Louis tried to casually cover his mouth, knowing that he was smiling obnoxiously at him and couldn’t help it. He also pointedly avoided looking at the long line of Harry’s neck. “Some wine… and some champagne, and then”--Harry grinned and scrunched up his nose, his dimple popping--”some more wine.” 

Louis snorted, dragging his chair closer to the porch banister so that he could try and prop the phone up against it. He told Harry to hold on while he did so, finally getting the phone to balance precariously on the edge of the railing before sitting back in his chair, propping his feet up on the banister that was now within foot-propping-distance, his untouched bowl of macaroni growing cold in his lap. “Okay,” he said, finally sorted. “Wine and champy, huh? What were you celebrating?” 

“Nothing really,” Harry replied easily, in his slow drunken voice. “Just ‘appy to see Gems, that’s all.” Drunk Harry still seemed incapable of speaking in full sentences, often dropping off syllables when normally he spoke very proper, and it was something Louis hadn’t remembered until just now. It caused his breath to hitch in his throat, the thought that how maybe not everything had changed, no matter how different _this_ Harry was compared to _his_ Harry.

“Ah, so you’re up in Manchester now?” he asked, leaning far back in his chair to grab his tacky beer bottle before setting it on the ground next to him--for easier access. 

“Yup!” Harry grinned proudly. “Got ‘ere this mornin’.” 

Louis eyed his bowl of mac and cheese in his lap and realized it was only getting colder. “Hope you don’t mind, but, your timing is shit,” Louis said, holding up the blue bowl of lukewarm pasta and showing Harry before he settled back into his chair to take a bite. 

“No, no, by all means,” Harry said, waving his hand in front of the camera to gesture _Go on._ “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was interruptin’ your dinner. What’re you eatin’?” 

Louis swallowed the bite in his mouth before grinning at Harry and saying, “Mac and cheese, obviously.”

Harry threw his head back and laughed that ugly (adorable) laugh of his, causing Louis to smirk down into the bowl, pointedly looking away from Harry’s stupid laugh. He hadn’t even said anything worthy of that laugh. Harry was such an easy drunk. “Mac and cheese?! _How old are you_?” 

“Hey, fuck you,” Louis laughed; the _You always did all the cooking_ went without saying. Louis set his fork down in his bowl so he could flip Harry off. “Mac and cheese is delicious and you know it. And, it’s like, impossible to mess up.” 

“I’m sure you could find a way,” Harry said with a cheeky grin. 

Louis narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m sorry, Mr. _I Used To Be a Baker_ , but not all of us were born with the ability to cook.” He picked up his fork, stabbing a few pieces of pasta before popping them in his mouth, sticking his mac and cheese covered tongue out at Harry before finally shutting his mouth and chewing the bite, causing Harry to ugly laugh again. 

“Heeeyyy,” Harry finally whined, after he had finished laughing. “I wasn’t just _born_ with ability to bake. I had to work for it.” 

“Sure ya did, Harold,” Louis said, rolling his eyes fondly. There was a moment of silence and Louis looked up from spearing more cold noodles with his fork to look at the grainy image of Harry, only to find him frowning at him. Louis sighed dramatically, his smirk still present, before saying, “What’s wrong?” 

“I want mac and cheese now,” Harry said, pouting harder, always the impressionable drunk. 

Louis barked out a laugh, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook. “You _must_ be drunk,” Louis laughed, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t you rather have a kale smoothie or summat?” he teased, taking another bite of his food and giving off an over exaggerated moan to show how delicious it was. 

Harry glared at Louis. “You mean one’a my _douche drinks_?” Which caused Louis to let another loud, unabashed cackle escape from his lungs, his loud laughter causing a grin to form on Harry’s face. After his laughter died down, Louis noted the way that Harry was staring so intently at his screen--at Louis. Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious under Harry’s gaze, he sat up a bit straighter and pinched the bottom of his shirt, knowing that his tummy had probably been jutting out in his previous position. 

“I’m guessing you don’t drink kale smoothies anymore, then?” Louis finally asked.

Harry paused, seeming to be contemplating his answer--or he was just drunk, Louis couldn’t be sure. “Mmmm… not really. I mean, I try to eat healthy still, sometimes. Not as often as I should. But I also run? Like, a lot? I got _big_ into running after”--Harry paused, his eyes flickering to meet Louis’ even through the pixelated image on his phone--”um, One Direction ended.” _After we had ended._

Louis hadn’t expected such a serious answer to his mocking question, but he felt like he should acknowledge it somehow. “Yeah, I remember you getting into that--into running--near the end of the tours.” _When I didn’t know you._

Harry nodded. “Yeah. So, like, yeah. I run a lot, but… I kind of eat a lot now, too?” he said, glancing down at his stomach. “I should probably start eating healthier again… I’ve kinda let myself go,” he said, still frowning down at his stomach and _what the fuck?_ Did Harry own a fucking _mirror_? Nobody-- _nobody_ \--would ever look at Harry Styles and say _Wow, he really let himself go._ He was drop dead gorgeous. 

Whenever Louis would sit down, his stomach had always pudged out. And even if he was standing, if he wasn’t aware of how how he was holding himself, his body would go into a position that wasn’t exactly flattering. He just had poor posture, okay? Louis knew he wasn’t _fat_ , but he had never been particularly interested in physical fitness, either. He liked playing footie, which involved a lot of running, sure, but he would never just… go for a run. He never found himself doing press-ups or lifting weights like Liam had. He was fine sitting on the couch watching telly. Always had been. If it weren’t for his metabolism, he’d probably be the size of a house by now. 

But _Harry_? Harry had always been perfect. Even when he was an awkward sixteen year old boy with baby fat still around his hips, he was _still_ perfect and wonderful and so intoxicating to look at. Then he grew up into this… _sex god!_ And how could he possibly be doubting himself right now?! 

Harry Styles was like a fine wine; he only got better with age. 

“Don’t be daft, Harold. You’re perfect.” And-- _what the fuck?_ He wasn’t supposed to say that last part aloud. Fuck. Harry immediately blushed, probably because he was drunk, but it still made Louis bite down on a grin and suddenly he was thankful he had let that slip instead of keeping it in his head, because Harry blushing has always seemed to take Louis’ breath away. 

Louis knew he needed to change the subject or keep the conversation going--anything other than the silence that they were sitting in. “Well”--Louis cleared his throat--”at least you won’t push the kale smoothies on me, then,” he said with a grin, remembering the way he used to chase Niall around the bus trying to get him to try some of his smoothie. 

He was expecting Harry to laugh, maybe even do his ugly cackle again, but instead he frowned and--oh. Right. He was drunk. Maybe that’s why he kept taking Louis’ jokes so seriously; Louis wouldn’t hold it against him. He was just about to change the subject again, back to a safe, fluffy topic, but Harry spoke up before he could do that. “Was I really that bad?” he asked, in a defeated tone. “Like, a douche? I really… don’t remember pushin’ my habits on people that much and, like, I _wouldn’t have_ if I had realized how much everybody hated it.” 

Louis’ breath got caught in his throat at Harry’s words, Louis able to tell how genuinely upset Harry was about their conversation with Niall back on the 4th, and it kind of broke Louis’ heart all over again--just like it had that day. Harry had grown up and changed so much, in so many different ways, but at the same time… he was still that insecure boy that Louis knew way back when. 

How could somebody _so annoyingly perfect_ be so self doubting? 

Louis set his now-empty bowl down on the ground next to him before leaning forward and snatching his phone up. He held the phone in front of his face, wanting to make sure that Harry heard him properly when he said, “ _Harry--no._ I was just messing with you. I’m sorry, I--didn’t mean anything by it, really.” 

“I know you were just messin’ with me, but, erm... what you and Ni’ were sayin’ the other day...” 

Louis sighed quietly, running a hand through his messy fringe and staring down at the frown lines on Harry’s face. He had been such a happy drunk when this conversation started, and now he was-- _this_. It wasn’t right.

“Look, Harry… you went through some weird, um, fads?--back then, but I don’t think you were ever that _douchey_ about it. But, then again, you also weren’t pushing them on... me...” he said, wincing at the end because, it was the truth, but he didn’t want Harry to think he was choosing _this_ moment to get mad at him about their past. “So maybe I’m not the best person to ask?” 

Harry seemed to frown even harder. Louis cleared his throat. “But I do know that no matter how much you ever pushed anything on anybody, mate, _nobody_ would have ever hated you for it. ‘Specially not the other lads,” he said, watching Harry’s face for any changes, any indication as to where his drunken feelings were taking him. Harry slowly nodded, his expression still unreadable, his eyes locked on what had to be Louis’. “C’mon then, sunshine. Give us a smile,” Louis said, biting back his own grin at how easily the term of endearment had rolled of his tongue. 

That seemed to work instantly, a bright smile coming to Harry’s face, relief washing over Louis that he had at least done something right tonight. He was the one who had brought drunk Harry down, maybe, but at least he was also the one who brought him back up. Louis leaned back in his chair, listening to the crickets chirping from around his yard, watching as Harry ran his fingers through his wilted quiff again. 

“Thanks, Lou,” Harry said, smiling softly down at his phone.

Reggie nosed at the screen door just then, causing it to open just enough to make a noise when it sealed shut, grabbing Louis’ attention. “I know what will cheer you up,” Louis said with a smile, as he got up from his chair to open the screen door. Reggie darted past him, as fast as a nine-year old lab could dart, and ran down the stairs into the grass. 

“Are you gonna sing for me?” Harry asked, his eyes lighting up and his dimple on display, his sadness quickly forgotten because--alcohol does weird things to the human body. 

Louis dramatically rolled his eyes, making sure that it was exaggerated enough that Harry would be able to pick it up, even through their laggy FaceTime feed. “I am absolutely _not_ singing for you,” he said with a breathy chuckle, sitting down on the bottom step of his porch, peeling his socks off his feet before setting them down in the grass. 

Harry pouted. “Aw, come on! I haven’t heard you sing in years.” 

“Go put a One Direction album on then,” Louis said, with a mocking lift of his eyebrow. “Better yet, go buy Just Hold On on iTunes.” 

“I already did,” Harry said easily. Louis’ heart raced again. In the silence that passed over the next few seconds, Louis refused to let himself think about Harry buying Louis’ single when it came out a few years ago, but rather wondered to himself when the last time he had even heard a One Direction song was. He pointedly _did not_ have any of their albums on his phone, so they could never accidentally come on during shuffle. 

It wasn’t that he hated One Direction or their songs--sure, their first album was kind of a joke now, but they had all been _children_ at the time, so what could you really expect? And later on, Louis did most of the writing for them. So if he hated their music, he had nobody to blame but himself. That’s why he _didn’t_ hate their music, he just… couldn’t listen to it. 

It brought back too many memories. 

Or, it had before. Now, with Harry back in his life, maybe their old albums wouldn’t be so intimidating. 

“Well, if you’re not gonna sing for me, what do you ‘ave that’s gonna cheer me up?” Harry asked, bringing Louis out of his thoughts. Louis redirected his eyes back to his phone, grinning down at it, before lifting his eyes to locate Reggie in the yard. “What is it? Show me!” Harry demanded, and once Louis’ eyes found the dog in the dark backyard he let out a loud laugh. 

“Hold on, Harold, he’s doing a poo,” Louis said, switching his eyes back to Harry, still chuckling. 

Harry’s eyes lit up comically, drunkenly exclaiming, “Reginald?! He’s soooo cute!” 

“Not right now he isn’t,” Louis laughed loudly, looking back overtop his phone to check on Reggie’s squatting status. 

“Everybody poops, _Lewis_ ,” Harry said, and--right. Louis was totally fine with them casually dropping old nicknames to each other. Totes fine. This was _totes_ something mates did to each other. Now if only he could convince his hammering heart of the same thing. “Don’t make fun of him for having bowel movements,” Harry said. “They’re natural.” 

“Easy for you to say, pal. You don’t have to clean ‘em up.” 

Harry paused for a moment, considering, then grinned and said, “True.” 

Louis whistled at the dog, grabbing his attention from the other side of the yard. “Come ‘ere, boy,” he called, patting his thigh. The dog quickly changed directions and trotted over to Louis with a happy pant and floppy tongue, climbing up the stairs and sticking his nose directly in Louis’ face, causing him to laugh and Harry to start cooing. “Sit,” Louis said, gently pushing the dog’s face away from his own. “Sit down,” he repeated, but the dog just looked at him. 

He really did suck at basic commands. 

“Maybe you should say please,” Harry’s voice came through the tinny speakers. 

Louis rolled his eyes, readjusting his arm that was holding the phone up in front of them so that it was resting against his bent knee, then looked over at the dog again. “Reggie. My boy. My darling. The light of my life… _please_ sit down, ” he said, chuckling in between endearments, the dog’s tail excitedly wagging under Louis’ praise. Reggie stood his ground though, completely oblivious to the fact that Louis had asked anything of him. 

Harry snorted, causing Louis to look back over at the phone. Louis squinted at the tiny box in the corner that showed his reflection, making sure both he and Reggie were in it, before looking back over _at the still standing dog, Jesus Christ._ Louis slapped his palm against his forehead. “You’re so embarrassing, mate!” 

“Aw!” Harry cooed, his face closer to the screen now and a fond expression across it. “He’s not embarrassing! He’s adorable. Hiiiii, Reginald!” he said, and Louis watched with amusement as Reggie’s ears perked up and he looked around confused for a moment before turning back towards Louis, his tongue flopping back out of his mouth as he panted hotly into Louis’ face. 

“Sweet Jesus,” Louis said, using his pointer finger to gently direct Reggie’s panting mouth away from his face. “Your breath, mate. _Woof_ ,” Louis said, scrunching up his nose. Harry let another squawking laugh leave his lungs, his smile seeming to stretch all the way up to his eyes. 

“Aw, poor Reginald. It must be hard to brush your teeth when you’ve got no thumbs!” 

Louis chuckled, shaking his head back at his phone. “You know, he goes by _Reggie_ , not Reginald. Isn’t that right, Reggie?” Louis asked, cooing the last part at the dog who agreed by wagging his tail again. “See. He’s only _Reginald_ when he’s done something naughty, like _torn the stuffing out of his bed again_ ,” Louis said, giving the lab a knowing look. “Or torn up the rubbish bin and left the evidence _all over the kitchen_.” Harry let out another howl of a laughter, causing Louis to bite down on his grin. If the dog had any concept of the English language, he didn’t let it on--because he thought just then would be an appropriate time to try and sneak in a lick at Louis’ ear. 

Louis squirmed away, looking back at his phone and laughing when he saw Harry’s heart eyes. Harry had his chin resting on his palm, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he grinned at the screen, his eyes showing just how gooey Reggie was turning his insides and, yeah, Louis was familiar with that. “I prefer Reginald,” Harry said finally, still heart-eyeing them. “It’s more dignified and proper.” And-- _of course he felt that way._

Louis knew Harry would prefer Reggie’s full name, which was why he had introduced him as Reginald in the first place, but he tried to pretend like he was annoyed by scoffing at Harry’s words. Louis looked back at the dog. “Would you _please_ sit your fat, _fat_ bum down next to me?” Louis asked, pointing at the spot next to him. “So that we can have a proper conversation with Harold, here?” 

The dog just continued to pant in his face, his bum swaying back and forth by the force of his swishing tail. Louis sighed, shaking his head and scratching the dog’s ears with his free hand while looking back at his phone, laughing again when he saw Harry’s unchanged face. “You alright there, mate?”

“I _love_ him,” Harry said, his words coming out mumbled due to the fact his chin was still resting on his palm. And-- _of course_ Harry loved Reggie, everybody loved Reggie, but the fact that Harry Styles, Louis’ ex- _everything_ , was in love with his dog--yeah. It kind of made his heart soar. 

“Can you believe that someone gave him up?” Louis asked, shaking his head and letting out a displeased breath. “This poor bloke was in the shelter for almost two months before I found him, if you can imagine,” he said, and when he looked back at Harry, he was now frowning deeply. 

“That is so sad!” Harry cried. “How could anybody do that to him?!” 

“I don’t know, mate,” Louis said with a sad shrug. “I haven’t the faintest clue why he was given up in the first place, but he wasn’t adopted because he was too old, I guess. Everybody wants a puppy, you know?” Louis said sadly. The dog finally planted his bum down next to Louis and stepped his heavy paw onto Louis’ thigh, as if he knew they should be touching, and Louis couldn’t help but smile fondly at him. He rested his hand on the back of Reggie’s neck before looking at Harry again. 

“I’m glad you were able to adopt him,” Harry said, smiling softly, his chin teetering back and forth on his palm in a drunken sway. Harry’s words said one thing, but his eyes said, _I’m glad you’re not alone._ And--Louis definitely didn’t know how to deal with that. So he wouldn’t; he’d pretend it never happened. 

“Me too.” Louis smiled, petting the dog’s neck still. “I thought he had--like--upset you. On the 4th,” Louis said, looking back at Harry’s image. 

Harry gasped--literally gasped, probably due to the alcohol--and said, “Reginald could _never_ upset me.” Louis chuckled softly, smiling down at his thigh where Reggie’s paw was still pressing into. “Oh, you mean ‘cause I… with the _you never told me_ thing?” Harry asked, using a weird high-pitched voice at the end that Louis supposes was to imitate… himself? Is that how Harry imagined he sounded? Louis swallowed down his laugh, nodding his response to Harry. 

Harry continued, “No. I was just… being weird that day, I guess.” And it wasn’t until just then that Louis noticed how bloodshot Harry’s eyes were. He tapped the screen of his phone so the clock would display at the top, his eyes widening a bit when he realized it was half three in Manchester. Harry yawned, then said, “How could anybody not love Reginald? He’s such a”--another yawn--”stud.” 

They talked for a little while longer after that, Reggie finally curling up into a ball next to Louis and taking a nap when he realized that Louis was done paying attention to him. But the later it got back in England, the less Harry was making sense, so Louis finally shook his head and said, “Go to bed, you lush.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine.” There was a moment of silence between them, both of them just staring at the other through their phones, not saying anything but just staring. “I’ll--talk to you soon?” Harry said, his eyes squinted and barely open now because he was so tired. 

Louis smiled softly at him. “Of course.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmm... mac and cheese. 
> 
> Hi everybody! They're finally interacting!!! Yayyyyy!!!! Are you as excited as I am? I mean, OT3 was fun, but _this is what we're here for,_ amiright? 
> 
> I wanna say a huge thank you to everyone that left feedback and kudos on the last chapter! I'm so happy that you all seemed to enjoy it as much as I have! 
> 
> I am off now to go sit on an airplane for 8 hours with 3 screaming children... if you never hear from me again, it's because I have thrown myself out somewhere over the United States to escape the insanity! But don't worry, I'll make sure Ducky continues posting the story after my death if that's the case. I wouldn't keep you guys in suspense forever. 
> 
> Have an amazing weekend! 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	5. Part Five

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/da2620da41d6d589843357da86ff71e1/tumblr_inline_osvabr8euK1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
Sunday morning, Louis found himself sitting on his couch finishing off a bowl of cocoa puffs, Reggie sitting on the floor in front of him whining pathetically every now and again. Louis rolled his eyes. “You can’t have cocoa puffs, Reg. Sorry, mate. Dogs just don’t eat cereal.” Reggie huffed, raising back up onto all fours and staring at Louis, before finally giving off a breathy _woof._

Louis glared at the dog, who instantly huffed again and then finally laid down. 

“Big baby,” Louis chuckled quietly to himself.

Louis had a busy last couple of days; he had somehow been convinced to help volunteer for the [H](https://www.habitat.org/about)abitat for Humanity build project that was taking place in Chance, by a very persistent Tammy Hallstatter who rudely pointed out: _“What else ya’ got to be doin’, Lou?”_

Um.

Louis was a very busy man. 

He was busy, you know, um… making his way through Game of Thrones… and besides! Louis loved charity! He would have happily donated money towards the cause, but Tammy (equally as rudely) pointed out that the only currency she would accepted was _“good old-fashioned elbow grease.”_

So after three days of physical labor, Louis could officially say he had helped build a house. 

He was basically a carpenter now. 

He would make a joke comparing himself to Jesus, maybe something along the lines of _“We would have been carpenter buddies!”_ but, maybe it’d be best if Louis laid off the Jesus jokes for a while to improve his karma. 

Really, he had nothing against Jesus or religion! No matter what it seemed like. He just didn’t like to pass up a joke opportunity. 

That was _his_ cross to bear. 

Louis snorted aloud at his own thoughts. _Damn he was funny._

Regardless, Louis’s muscles were achy and he was relieved to know he had nothing on his schedule today except the third season of Game of Thrones, which he had never gotten into back when it was on the air. He liked to be fashionably late to pop-culture things. (Same way he hadn’t caught the Pokémon bug as a kid until all of his friends had already moved on to other, _cooler_ , things. But that was fine. Louis was _totes_ fine being the only bitchin’ lad in all of Yorkshire still proudly displaying his Poké cards in page-protected binders). 

Louis hadn’t heard from Harry yet this morning, which was--strange.

It was only mid-morning in Chance, but, like, that was _mid-afternoon_ in England, so Louis wasn’t quite sure what Harry was up to. Or _who_ he was up to. But no matter how many times he checked his texts, the last message in their thread was sent _by Louis_ and he wasn’t going to be that guy. 

Even though Louis was a notorious multi-texter, he didn’t want to seem desperate or obsessed or anything. 

Because he _wasn’t._

Because they were just _friends._

Pals. 

Laddy dude bro pals. 

Nothing more. 

And they _wouldn't be_ anything more. Because--that’s what “friends” were. Look it up.

Louis locked his phone, sighing grumpily to himself and smoothing over Reggie’s back with the flat of his foot from his current slumped position on the couch. He couldn’t help but secretly wonder, in the darkest pit of his mind, if maybe Harry realized how weird it was that they had been texting so much and had decided to distance himself altogether. 

But, like, _Christ._ He was on the other side of the world, how much distance did he need? 

This was definitely why Louis should have just, you know, bowed out back when Niall had first suggested they become friends. It was only going to lead to more heartache for Louis. It was bound to happen. Louis had some really shit luck. Eventually, even Reggie got tired of Louis’ moping and had puttered down the hallway, disappearing around the corner. 

Louis let a long puff of air leave his lungs. Maybe he’d just go back to sleep. 

Before he could even consider that too much though, he was broken from his thoughts by the sound of somebody knocking on his door. Reggie scrambled from the other room, his nails slipping against the hardwood floor as he slid back into the living room, ready to defend Louis’ honor. 

If this was Tammy Hallstatter at the door holding up a hammer and a tool belt, telling Louis, _Good news! We got the contract for the second build after all!_ Louis was going to slam the door in her face, as politely as possible. 

Small towns, man. 

Their residents needed to learn how to text like normal people, instead of just _“popping by.”_

Reggie stood a few feet away from the door, huffing quietly and making his jowls puff out, which made him look even less threatening than he actually was. “Easy, killer,” Louis laughed. The dog’s head snapped over to look at him and his tail started to wag, because, he was the least threatening dog _of all time._

Louis pushed himself from the couch, tugging the bottom of his Adidas shirt over the waistband of his comfy shorts in an attempt to look a little less disheveled and like he hadn’t been sitting on the couch all morning. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, steeling himself to tell Tammy (in the kindest way possible) to _please_ fuck right off.

But when he opened the door it wasn’t Tammy Hallstatter. 

It was Harry _fucking_ Styles. 

“Do you have, like, a perpetual need to _not_ fucking tell me you’re coming to town?” Louis asked, crossing his arms and glaring hard at him. Harry only grinned brightly, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He stood in a similar pose, his arms crossed over his stupid white Rolling Stones shirt that Louis swore was older than he was, those tiny denim shorts covered his hips and _fuck me_ , Louis had missed him _so_ fucking bad. 

“Surprise?” Harry finally offered up, giving Louis a toothy smile and _fuck._ Louis couldn’t resist the smirk that broke across his face. Louis felt Reggie’s head poking around his legs, trying to get a look at who was at the door, but Louis’ eyes were glued to Harry, watching as they lit up at the sight of the dog. “Reginald!” Harry cried. 

Louis tried his best to keep a hardened expression. 

He watched, with confused furrowed eyebrows, as Harry crouched down and stuck his palm out flat in front of Reggie. “Can you shake my hand?” he asked the dog, Louis’ jaw slowly unhinging. Harry didn’t learn his lesson _last_ time? Had he not seen the whole _sit_ debacle when they were FaceTiming? Well, in Harry’s defense, he had been piss drunk at the time. “Hmm? Shake? Can we shake hands, please?” Harry continued, completely ignoring Louis. 

Fucking Harry Styles. 

Louis looked down, watching as Reggie gave Harry’s palm one uninterested sniff before turning and trotting back into the living room. Louis let out a single high-pitched laugh, shaking his head and letting his arms drop back down to his sides as Harry stood back up, frowning deeply at Louis. “Maybe he’s cross because _you didn’t tell anybody you were coming.”_

Harry let his head fall back in a laugh. “Right, I’m sure that’s why your _dog_ is cross with me,” he said, with a knowing smirk. Louis glared harder. _Fuck I missed you._ “And, anyway, I like surprises. They’re more dramatic,” Harry said, biting back down on his stupid puffy lip. 

Louis rolled his eyes, because he was totes unaffected by Harry’s stupid good looks. He crossed one ankle over the other and leaned his shoulder against the door frame, totally breezy, giving Harry (what he hoped was) an unamused look. 

_I’m so glad you’re back._ “When did you get back?” 

“Early this morning,” Harry replied easily, scratching at the back of his neck. “I would have come ‘round earlier, but, um, I had to go do something.” 

“Oh,” Louis said, not knowing how he felt about Harry’s vagueness. _Do what?_

Harry grinned at Louis’ confused expression. “I, um... “--he chuckled--”bought a truck.” And, wait, _what?_

_"What?”_

Harry laughed this time, loud and unabashed. Instead of saying anything else, he stepped to the side and gestured with his hand over to Louis’ driveway and _oh my fucking god_ , he bought the largest truck Louis had ever seen. Sitting in Louis’ driveway, the engine still clicking as it cooled down, was a gigantic, all black pick-up truck. One of those obnoxiously tall trucks that had a step built in underneath all of the doors because most people wouldn’t be able to get in otherwise. 

The kind of truck that was usually _overcompensating_ for the driver’s small penis. But, Louis knew that wasn’t the case, and-- _wait._ No. He wouldn’t think of Harry Styles’ cock. Nope. Not happening. 

_Dead kittens, dead kittens, dead kittens._

“What in the actual fuck is that, Harold?” Louis asked, his jaw dropped, his eyes wide with amusement because _who the fuck was_ Harry Styles?! 

Harry’s grin was so wide it looked like it must have hurt. “The last time I was here I had a rental,” he explained easily, his words slow because telling a story when you’re Harry Styles was a fucking process. Louis knew he was in for the long haul, so he got comfortable. “But I dropped it off at the airport when I left. So when I got back in this morning, I was standing there at the rental counter and I--erm--realized… I didn’t want a rental.” _Because you’re filthy fucking rich?_ “I wanted something more… invested.” 

“Invested,” Louis repeated flatly, blinking at Harry. 

Harry bit down on his bottom lip, shrugging one shoulder. “Something more, you know. Mine. That, um, stayed here. All the time.” And-- _oh._ He wanted something more... _permanent?_ Louis suddenly felt dizzy at the realization. What the fuck was Harry trying to tell him? 

“You didn’t, uh”--Louis coughed--”buy a fucking house, too, did you?” 

Harry suddenly barked out a laugh, startling them both a little, Louis chuckling along with him. “No.” Harry shook his head, still grinning at Louis. “Just the truck.” Louis opened his mouth to say something, to say anything, but he found he was--once again--left speechless. Louis just shrugged at Harry helplessly, letting a huff of air leave his lungs. 

“ _Why_ a truck?” Louis finally said. “You’ve owned many cars and, like, not one has been…” _This obnoxious._

Harry laughed loudly. “I know, right?” 

“I…” Louis trailed off, laughing and still shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say.” 

“I figured, if I was gonna be here for a while, I might as well--you know. _Blend.”_

“So you went and bought a fuckin’ lorry?!” Louis exclaimed in a frantic, amused tone, purposely avoiding the fact that Harry had said he was going to be here for a while (and that he wanted something more permanent). That was for Future Louis to over-analyze. Present Day Louis was watching as Harry cackled and slapped his knee because _he was ridiculous._

“It’s not a lorry!” he defended around a laugh. “ _That_ , my friend”--Harry turned and gestured to the _fucking lorry_ again--”is a 2021 [F](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/18/0e/ed/180eed2f25d342416024f6808b70cd6c.jpg)ord F-350 Super Duty: _King Ranch Edition_ ,” he said, turning back around with the proudest smile on his face. 

Louis blinked at him slowly, his jaw hung open so far that it was starting to hurt, because _what?!?!?!?!?!_

Louis let out another high-pitched laugh, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing at his temples. “I’m sorry… _what?!_ ” Louis exclaimed, opening his eyes and meeting Harry’s amused ones. The more frantic Louis got, the more it seemed to spur Harry on, because now he was throwing out statistics that Louis didn’t even care to follow. 

“This baby has four hundred and forty horsepower, can you believe it? Fuckin’ eight hundred and sixty-- _eight hundred and sixty_ \--pounds of torque. Madness, right?! I almost passed out on the spot!” And--Harry was fucking with him, right? Louis was sure that Harry had never talked this fast in his life.

Did he even know what the hell he was saying? 

“Do you even know what the hell you’re saying?!” Louis demanded, his fingertips pressed against his temples, his mouth still hung wide open. He could not believe any of this was happening. Where the fuck was Niall when you needed him? He needed a god damn witness. 

Harry cackled, pointedly ignoring his question as he rattled off more nonsensical stats, that he had _no doubt_ memorized on the way over here just so he could annoy the piss out of Louis with. He had brought his big hands up at some point and was counting off on his fingers after each stat. “Six point seven liter V8 turbo diesel engine! Would you believe me if I said this beaut can tow up to thirty-one thousand pounds?” Harry continued, his eyes bright and his head nodding, giving off a look like _I know, right?!_

“Would you believe me if I said _I don’t give a shit_?” Louis shot back, which only riled Harry up more. 

“And it’s fully loaded, too! All leather seats with bum-warmers and everything! Oh! And! Every seat has its own climate control, _whaaaat_?” Harry said, ending in an obnoxious voice and throwing his hands up. Louis just blinked at him some more. “Go on an’ stick Nan in the back, because she can crank that baby’s temperature up to keep her nice and toasty while we’re coolin’ in the front!” 

Was Harry... _high?_

Or was this a Freaky Friday situation where Harry had swapped bodies with some sleazy used car salesman? 

“And the best part,” Harry continued, unbothered by Louis’ expression. “It was all hand crafted and built _Ford Tough_ , right here in the good ol’ U S of A.” 

“I can’t stand you,” Louis said flatly. Harry bent forward in laughter, his palms slapping against his thighs as his whole body shook with it.

“It’s their motto!” Harry squeaked in a high-pitch voice due to his laughter. 

“Like--seriously, mate, _are you okay?_ What the hell has gotten into you?” Louis asked, still around a breathy laugh because how could he keep a straight face when Harry Styles was literally being the most ridiculous version of himself? Harry stood up, wheezing a bit and wiping at his eyes, holding his palms up flat to Louis in a gesture that read _Hold on, I’m still not over it._

Louis just crossed his arms over his chest while shaking his head, his jaw still dropped--which he’s pretty sure hasn’t shut this entire time--not able to stop the fond smile that had taken over his features. “Who _are_ you?” Louis asked exasperatedly, which only sent Harry into another fit of laughter. Louis couldn’t help but laugh along with him, Harry’s giddiness seeming to rub off on Louis. “This is, without a doubt, the most ridiculous thing you have ever done. And that’s saying something!” Louis said, his smile still overly fond as he watched Harry wipe more tears of laughter from his cheeks.

“I know!” Harry squeaked, his voice high-pitched and cracking around his wheezed laughter. 

“Do you need to sit down or summat?” Louis laughed, his tone mocking, gesturing at Harry (who was bent over again and couldn’t get his laughter under control) and then gesturing down to the porch steps. Harry shook his head, his hands waving Louis off. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Harry laughed, still shaking his head and holding his palms out towards Louis. “I think I’m”--he laughed some more--”really jet-lagged, or something? Like”--he paused to wipe his eyes--”I haven’t really slept in, like, a _long_ time. I think it’s making me a bit… loopy.” 

“Jesus, Harold.” Louis shook his head. “Why didn’t you sleep on the plane?” 

“I tried!” Harry squawked. “But I was too ex--um...” He cut himself off mid-sentence, seeming to think it over before saying, “there was a baby crying, so. You know. I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Mhmm,” Louis hummed, still biting down on his smile because Harry was so… unexpected. Harry continued to surprise him, this new version of Harry that he’s never known. There were still bits and pieces that were familiar to Louis, different facial expressions and different opinions and phrases he would say, but there were also so many unknowns. 

_His_ Harry would have never gone out and bought the largest fuckin’ truck known to man. 

_His_ Harry would have bought a classic car, or a _sensible_ car, or even a bloody motorbike.

But _this_ Harry went out and bought the most stereotypical American truck that he could find, and then proceeded to memorize its specifications just to annoy Louis with. 

_This_ Harry… was slowly becoming Louis’ favorite person in the whole world. 

Harry seemed to have composed himself a little, his breathing having gone back to normal and he was no longer wiping away tears of joy, but he was still looking at Louis with an unreadable expression. Louis shook it off, clearing his throat before saying, “Do ya think you maybe should have waited until you weren’t completely sleep deprived before you went out and made a horrible impulse buy?” 

“Horrible?!” Harry laughed, his jaw dropping. He then stage-whispered, _“She can hear you!”_

_“She?!”_ Louis gawked. 

“She,” Harry confirmed proudly, jutting his chin in the air and squinting his eyes in a pretentious way. 

“Oh God… you’ve gone and named her, ‘aven’t you?” Louis asked, covering his face with his hands. Harry giggled-- _fucking giggled_ \--causing Louis to drop his hands from his face. His tone was exasperated when he finally asked, “Do I even want to know her name?” 

“Stella,” Harry said, smiling proudly at Louis with all of his teeth visible. He cocked his hip and then in a horrible feminine American accent he asked, “You want a ride, stud?” Louis burst out laughing, his loud squealing laughter seeming to echo in his too-quiet neighborhood, only causing the grin to grow further on Harry’s face. 

Louis should be worried. 

He should be worried that they’re being flirty and giggly together. 

He should be worried that they’re using old nicknames for each other more frequently every day. 

He should be worried that instead of going back to his cabin and sleeping away his jet lag, Harry was here, standing on his porch in his tiny denim shorts, asking Louis to go for a ride with him in his new truck. 

That he bought. 

To keep here. 

In Chance.

Louis’ town. 

He should be worried, but instead, he found himself biting down on his bottom lip to suppress his grin as he said, “Only if Reggie can ride in the back.” 

“ _Fuck yes._ Let’s do it!” Harry said in an excited tone, clapping his hands together and-- _Jesus he was adorable._ “Oh--also, before I forget. I, um… brought you something,” he said, and Louis watched as a shy smile spread across Harry’s face. Before Louis could ask, Harry held his pointer finger up, telling Louis to wait before he jogged back off towards his truck.

Louis let a puff of air leave his lungs, willing his heart to calm down--because _Jesus Christ_ he couldn’t go into cardiac arrest every time Harry did anything.

Louis was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of the truck door slamming, Harry walking back towards him with his hands held behind his back. Louis took a deep breath in, hoping his voice came out calm, cool and collected when he asked, “Alright. What is it, then?” He held both hands out to Harry with an expectant look. 

“It’s, um, nothing special, really. But, you said the other day that you haven’t been home in a while… so I thought--I don’t know, I thought that you might… enjoy… these. Here,” Harry said with another shy smile before pulling the yellow plastic bag out from behind his back and quickly handing it to Louis

Louis looked down at the bag with a confused expression before slowly taking it and pulling it open, his jaw dropping at the contents of the bag. “Jaffa cakes!” he declared, reaching into the bag of British treats to rifle around the contents. “And digestives! And Walkers! And--wait, what’s in here?” he asked, his smile threatening to split his face in half as he picked up a small tupperware container from the bottom of the bag. 

He looked up at Harry with raised eyebrows, only to find that shy smile still on his face, avoiding Louis’ eyes when he said, “Oh, um… Mum wanted me to bring those to you. They’re, um, macadamia nut biscuits? She remembered they were your favorite--or, they _were_ your favorite--so, she erm… made you a batch.” 

“Oh my god, _she didn’t,”_ Louis blurted out, quickly setting the plastic bag down on the porch so that he could pull the lid off the container and pick up one of the crumbly homemade cookies _(WTF M8?!). “Ohmygod she did,”_ he said astoundedly, taking a bite and then moaning loudly, his eyes falling shut as he took a minute to truly appreciate the moment. “I haven’t had these in so long, holy shit,” he said, around the deliciousness that he was still chewing. 

He opened his eyes, only to find that Harry was biting down hard on his lip, his dimples displayed on his rosy cheeks. His expression showed how truly pleased he was by Louis’ reaction. Louis shook his head, feeling warm all over at the thought of Harry telling his mum about everything, and the fact that he must have told in her such a positive light that _she had to go make him macadamia nut cookies?!_

The same cookies that she used to make for him when Harry and Louis would drive up to Holmes Chapel for the weekend?! 

Jesus Christ. He needed to go buy Anne a Ferrari or something. 

Once Louis had finally recovered from his food-orgasm, and reminded himself that this was all _Future Louis’_ problems and that he wouldn’t overthink it until he was alone and very much drunk, he ducked back into the house to put his bag of treats in the kitchen while Harry decided it would be his job to round up Reggie. 

Louis stepped into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror, taking a long deep breath in and letting it puff out as he stared at his reflection. He wet his hands and ran them through his fluffy fringe and considered changing his clothes before finally deciding against it, reasoning to himself that Harry had already seen him and it would be ridiculous to change now. After finishing up in the bathroom, he slipped his feet into a pair of Vans by the door and finally stepped back outside, just in time to watch Harry gently lifting Reggie effortlessly into the back of his truck, his arms hooked underneath the dog’s round tummy.

Louis may have whimpered quietly to himself, but that is neither here nor there. 

The last time Louis had lifted Reggie up onto anything, he had groaned and told Reggie he would definitely be going on a diet starting the next day. (Spoiler alert: he never did.) But here Harry was, lifting the fat dog into the _obnoxiously tall_ truck as if he were just a tiny pup. Louis hated Harry just a little bit. “Ya don’t think he’s gonna try and jump out, do you?” Louis asked, making his way to the truck and reaching up so he could scratch under Reggie’s chin. 

“Nahhh.” Harry waved him off. “I think it’s something, like, ingrained into their being. Dogs love trucks. It’s their happy place.” Louis considered this for a moment before finally nodding his agreement. “Ready to go?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows towards Louis. 

Louis nodded excitedly. “Where are we going, anyhow?” he asked, making his way around to the passenger seat. He pulled the door open and then frowned down at the bitch-step he would have to use in order to haul himself into the oversized vehicle. 

Harry probably did this on purpose, just so Louis would have to admit how short he was. 

That stupid, beautiful bastard.

Louis only huffed a little as he climbed into the truck via the step, his eyes narrowing as Harry bypassed the step altogether and easily climbed into the driver's seat. 

That stupid, tall, beautiful bastard. 

“I dunno.” Harry shrugged, grinning over at Louis. “I figured you could show me all the hip places in town. You know, where the _cool_ kids hang out.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like you’re new to this town, Harold. You stalked me all over it last month.” 

Harry laughed loudly and Louis was entranced by the sight of it, his heart puttering in his chest because _fuck_ , he was just so fucking beautiful! Even when he had bags under his eyes from his lack of sleep, he was still just--breathtaking. Louis needed to get a grip. “I didn’t stalk you anywhere!” Harry finally defended, his smile wide as he looked over at Louis. “They were all coincidences! Chance encounters! Luck of the draw!” 

“Sure they were,” Louis laughed, his tone mocking. “Alright, then. I _guess_ I could show you some places around town. We don’t have any hipster bars though, if that’s what you’re hoping for.” 

“Damn,” Harry cursed sarcastically.

“Or any Yves Saint Laurent boutiques,” Louis added, trying to keep his grin hidden, purposely acting like a tit. Harry turned and gave Louis a stale look, which only caused Louis to laugh and keep going. He started counting off on his fingers, “No speakeasies, hookah bars, or any posh, members-only cigar clubs… let’s see, what else, what else…” he said while tapping his chin in thought. “Oh! No juiceries, Starbucks or fro-yo, either...” he continued, listing everything he could think of while Harry’s face only grew staler. He couldn’t help but giggle when he said, “And if you were hoping to sneak in a Soulcycle class, the best you’re gonna get is the 1960’s gym equipment down at the YMCA.”

Louis avoided Harry’s attempt at pinching him by cuddling up closer to the door. Still laughing, he added, “Which, by the way, is closed on Sundays. You know, the Sabbath and a-a-all hey! Piss off!” Louis laughed loudly when Harry made grabby hands at his stomach, not able to finish his sentence correctly. 

“You’re a little shit!” Harry said, his eyes full of amusement as he went for Louis’ sides again, causing Louis to squeal. 

“Get o-off me!” Louis exclaimed around a frantic chuckle, grabbing Harry’s wrists and forcibly shoving them away. His heart was racing after their little spat, after their touching, and _Louis really needed to get a fucking grip._ Maybe he should just pretend that Harry was Niall for the rest of the day. _Niall_ wouldn’t cause Louis’ cock to get interested just by a little side pinching. 

Jesus, Louis really needed to go out and get himself laid. 

Harry shook his head laughing, finally moving to put the truck into reverse so they could begin their journey, but Louis’ pulse suddenly shot up as he looked out of the back window at a (happily panting) Reggie and had an inexplicable, overly-protective dad moment when he feared the dog might try to make an escape. He had never been in a truck, after all (for all Louis knew, at least), and Louis didn’t know how he’d react to it! What if he got spooked and tried to make a run for it at a red light? 

“Wait a minute,” Louis said, holding his hand out to halt Harry’s movements. He quickly opened the passenger door and, quite literally, jumped out of the truck before jogging back up to the front door. Once inside, he grabbed Reggie’s lead from the hook on the wall before locking back up the house and heading back towards the truck. 

Harry had stepped out of the truck ( _stepped_ out. Which was probably a hell of a lot more graceful than Louis’ _free fall_ ), and was now standing near the bed of the truck, calmly patting Reggie’s head. Harry rolled his eyes once he spotted what Louis had run back inside for, his tone teasing when he said, “Louis. Your dog is, like, a hundred years old. Do you really think he’s gonna jump out of the back?” 

“Hey, fuck you.” Louis glared at him. “Reggie is young and spry. You’d be surprised what he could do,” Louis’ defended, attaching the lead to Reggie’s red collar. Harry just grinned while shaking his head, clearly indulging Louis as he opened up one of the back doors and slid open the small window between the truck bed and the cab. Harry stuck his hand through the window, nodding at the lead, and Louis smiled gratefully as he handed it to him and then jogged back around to the passenger seat. 

Once he climbed back inside the truck, he looked into the backseat to see where Harry had looped the lead around one of the seat belts before clicking it into place. Yes. He felt much better now. Reggie didn’t seem to notice a difference--that his freedom had been taken away--and just continued to pant happily at his surroundings. He was probably getting impatient actually, and, yes. They should go. 

Louis looked away, _not_ watching Harry effortlessly climb into the front seat, and when Harry asked again, “Ready this time?” Louis simply smiled over at him and nodded his head. Harry started the truck again, which--just like everything else about it--was obnoxiously loud, before slowly backing out of Louis’ driveway. As they slowly drove down the gravel street, heading towards town, Harry’s head suddenly snapped over to Louis. “Wait, there’s no _fro-yo?”_

Louis rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. 

The three of them drove around town for more than an hour, Louis showing Harry all of the different places he had found, including the best places to eat. When they had passed Keith’s diner, they both fell silent, both probably remembering one of their first days together in Chance when Louis had banned him from coming back. 

Louis had been such a prick. 

Harry chewed on his puffy bottom lip, looking over at Louis, but--Louis wasn’t ready to face this yet. 

Thankfully Harry seemed to notice and didn’t say anything, didn’t bring up that day, and just kept driving down the road, letting Louis point out different places. 

But Chance was a _really_ small town, so there wasn’t much to show Harry, no matter how hard Louis tried to keep thinking of things. They had driven up and down Main Street multiple times, Louis pointing out different things and telling different anecdotes each time, and had finally ended up at the local PetSmart on the outskirts of town, in the same parking lot as the Pig Wig, because it was the only store that they’d be able to bring Reggie into. 

There was no _reason_ for them to park Stella and walk into the pet supply store, because it wasn’t like Reggie was in need of any items they sold there, but it was clear that both of them were trying to stall going back to Louis’ house and ending their spur of the moment hangout session ( _hangout sesh_ ). 

So that was how they found themselves moseying around the deserted store, joking back and forth about different things, Harry holding onto Reggie’s leash because _“I missed him!”_

“Oh! Toys!” Louis squealed, directing them down the next aisle that was filled with hundreds of different dog toys. The row seemed to go on forever, the shelves filled with baskets holding all different kinds of plush dog toys.

“Oh my god, there’s _so many,”_ Harry said, an awestruck expression on his face. 

“Fuckin’ America,” they both said at the same time, Louis whipping around to grin at Harry before they both burst out laughing, Reggie already having stuffed his nose inside one of the lower hanging baskets and was attempting to slyly remove one of the toys. Louis laughed, crouching down next to Reggie and grabbing the toy he had already slobbered over and removing it from the basket. 

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Well, I guess this is his now,” he said, chuckling as he held the toy out for Reggie, who happily bit down on it and let it dangle out of his mouth as he trotted down the aisle. 

“You have to get him this one, too!” Harry said, cooing at a lamb-shaped plush toy. “It’s so cute!” he said, turning around and showing Louis, holding the plushie up underneath his chin and sticking his bottom lip out. 

“Harold--”

“Oh! And this one,” Harry said, reaching back into the basket of toys and grabbing a yellow duck. “ _And_ this one”--he pulled out a turtle--”and _ohmygod_ this one looks like a newspaper! And”-- _squeak_ \--”it squeaks! Here, boy, want a paper?” he asked, now directing his attention to Reggie as he waved the plastic newspaper chewtoy at the dog. Reggie dropped the plushie he had been carrying and began wagging his tail at Harry. “Aww! _You’re so cute!”_ Harry beamed, squeaking the toy once more before letting Reggie bite it out of his hand. 

Louis was going to drop dead. 

He was going to melt into a big puddle of goo right there in the middle of PetSmart. _(Cleanup on aisle twelve! A grown man has just lost his shit over his ex-boyfriend picking out dog toys!)_ Louis put his hands on his hips, trying his best to look stern when he said, “Harry! You’re going to spoil him! He can’t be _one of those_ dogs. You’re gonna turn him into that little thing Paris Hilton used to carry around with her all the time.” 

“Tinkerbell,” Harry supplied easily, grinning over at Louis. “She was so tiny.” 

“Not the point,” Louis said flatly. “Reggie needs to know the value of a dollar,” he said, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t laugh. “He has to understand that money doesn’t just grow on trees.” Which--was all bullshit, because Louis had spent two years spoiling the hell out of his pudgy dog. There may or may not already be a gigantic basket full of dog toys in the corner of his living room. 

And Reggie’s dog pillow, which he tore to shreds every few weeks because he was a little shit, may or may not have been made out of egyptian cotton and memory foam. Louis probably should switch to a cheaper dog bed since Reggie was determined to keep him buying new ones, but, really--what else was Louis supposed to spend his millions on, if not his overweight, elderly yellow lab? 

“Ooh! This one looks like a caterpillar!” Harry said, completely ignoring Louis’ money rant as he transferred all of the plushies he was holding into the crook of his arm so he could grab the green and pink caterpillar and hold it up for Louis. 

Louis sighed defeatedly. “I’ll go get us a trolley,” he said, watching as a bright smile spread across Harry’s features before he forced himself to turn around and head to the front of the store. Once he got to the collection of trolleys (or _buggies_ as the locals called them, _WTF M8?_ ), he took a deep breath in and held it, trying to calm his pounding heart. 

Harry Styles really _did_ things to him. 

They ended up spending almost another hour in the store, their trolley filled with random things that had somehow equalled almost two hundred dollars--seriously, Reggie would never learn economics at this rate--and Louis busied himself with loading the plastic bags into the backseat of Harry’s truck instead of watching him lift Reggie into the bed. Louis sat down in the passenger seat of the stuffy truck, wiping the sweat off his brow as he waited for Harry to turn on the air con. 

“Where to now?” Harry asked. 

“Umm…” Louis trailed off, finally sighing. “I think that’s it, mate. That’s everything this town has to offer. Or, at least, that’s everywhere we can go with Reggie along.” Louis wanted to suggest dropping Reggie off back at the house so they could go do something else around town, but he was afraid once they got there Harry would end up going home instead. 

And, really, Louis should allow that because Harry must be exhausted. 

But. Louis was selfish and didn’t want this day to end yet. 

“Hmm…” Harry hummed, tapping his pointer finger against his chin in thought. “We could… go to the park? And see if Reggie likes the tennis balls we got him?” 

Louis’ eyes lit up. “Perfect!” 

They drove in comfortable silence towards the park, the same one they had all spent the 4th at, and Harry parked the loud truck in one of the small parking spots before hopping out to release Reggie. Louis dug around in their many bags to find the tube of tennis balls he had bought, before sliding off the seat until his feet touched the ground, refusing the use the bitch-step to get out of the truck. 

He was a _man._

“He probably doesn’t need his leash,” Louis said, after he looked around the park and realized that only a few other people were there. “He’s too old to run away.” Harry nodded and removed the lead from Reggie’s collar and rolled it up before setting it back in the cab of the truck. They headed over to the empty soccer field, Reggie trotting along beside them, and stopped once they were in the middle of the field. 

Louis opened the tube of tennis balls, peeling off the top before grabbing one and handing it to Harry. “Do you worst, Jock,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Harry snorted, grabbing the bright green ball from him before trying to getting Reggie hyped up. Louis had a hunch as to where this was going to go, but he thought he’d let Harry find out the hard way. 

“You want this, boy? Huh? Ooooh, I bet you do,” Harry said, teasing Reggie with the ball by waving it in front of his face. Reggie played along, following the ball with his eyes. “Go get it!” Harry said, cocking back and throwing the ball across the field. But, instead of darting off like Harry had probably imagined, Reggie just watched the ball fly away and then looked back up at Harry, his tongue flopping out the side of his mouth. 

Louis laughed loudly, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook with it. Harry laughed too, though it was more awestruck than anything else. “What the hell are you doing? Go get it!” Harry laughed, pointing aggressively towards where the ball had landed. “Fetch!” Louis just laughed harder, still trying to mask it with his palm. His dog _really_ sucked at being a dog. _“Reginald!”_ Harry whined, which only spurred Louis on more. 

“Give it a rest,” Louis laughed loudly. “He’s not gonna do it.” 

“Then why did we come here?!” Harry asked, laughing as he looked over at Louis with his hands up in the air, in a gesture that showed his confusion. 

“ _You_ were the one that wanted to buy the tennis balls,” Louis pointed out, “and _you_ were the one that suggested we come here. I told you back at the store that the balls weren’t a good idea.” 

“Balls are always a good idea,” Harry said, winking at Louis, who slapped his hands over his face because _Jesus Christ._ Harry Styles was going to kill him before this day was over. “And besides… most dogs play fetch!” 

“Not this one, mate,” Louis laughed, letting his hands drop from his face and looking down to where Reggie had now laid down, his tongue hanging far out of his mouth due to the heat. “Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, as they say,” Louis said, sitting down on the field next to the dog and looking up at Harry. 

Harry just sighed, rolling his eyes. “I don’t believe that! Reginald is smart. Maybe he’s even _too smart_ to play fetch.” 

“Too smart?” Louis mocked, raising an eyebrow at Harry. 

“Yeah, like, he knows if he goes and gets it, I’m just gonna throw it again. It’s a frivolous game when you stop to think about it,” he explained, settling down on the ground opposite Louis, his knees bent up and his palms stretched out behind him, the sleepy dog panting with his eyes shut between them. “So really, mate, your dog is just a genius.”

Louis snorted. “I mean, he _is_ a genius, no doubt. But I dunno about all that fetch talk. I think he just sucks at being a dog.” 

Harry gasped in faux-offense, bringing a hand up to his chest as he said, “How dare you.” Louis threw his head back and laughed, folding his legs and then resting his arms on them, shaking his head at Harry because _fuck, he was so god damned beautiful._ Louis watched as Harry spread out on his back, his hand picking up one of the dog’s paws and resting it in his own, his other arm coming up to block the sun out of his eyes. 

Harry spoke casually as he said, “I read somewhere once that huskies can’t learn how to play fetch. Like, if they see you throw something away, they’ll assume it’s not worth their time.” 

Louis blinked at Harry, who had turned his head over to look at him, his hand still shielding the sun from his eyes. “You know Reggie is a… lab, right?” 

Harry snorted. “Yes, Louis. I know that. I just thought I’d share my trivia with you.” 

“Well, thanks for the triv,” Louis said, looking down to where Harry and Reggie were still holding hands and paws. “You have a fascination with his feet,” Louis noted, nodding at their hands. 

“Well, you know I’m a sucker for hand holding,” Harry said, grinning up and Louis, causing his heart to skip another beat because _yes._ Louis did know that. Louis found himself fondly smiling down at the two, probably smiling too hard and looking creepy instead, but he couldn’t stop himself if he tried.

He had missed Harry so much when he was back in England, which should definitely scare Louis because he’d gone _eight years_ without having Harry in his life; he should easily be able to last two weeks, but the truth remained the same. Now Harry was back and the first thing he had done was come surprise Louis, to show Louis his truck _that he bought because he wanted something more permanent,_ and had now spent the day carting Louis and Louis’ dog around town, even though he was tired and--fuck. 

Louis didn’t know how to deal with any of this. 

He would definitely be calling Niall later to discuss in full. 

He thought about sending Niall a text now, demanding he clear his schedule for this evening because Louis was _without a doubt_ going into crisis mode after this day with Harry was over--but, he didn’t. Instead he laid down flat on his back as well, listening to the sounds of the park and the panting dog next to him, staring up at the blue sky and thinking about how happy he was in this moment. 

How familiar everything felt. 

How _normal_ this could be. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis watched as Reggie flopped over so his head was across Harry’s stomach, presumably trying to find a comfy position to sleep in, but Louis just turned and gawked at the pair. 

_“Traitor,”_ Louis whispered, completely offended at what he was witnessing. Harry giggled, causing Reggie’s head to bounce along his moving stomach. “You little _traitor!”_ Louis said with his jaw dropped, causing Harry to giggle harder. “This was your plan all along! This is why you came to Chance!” he said, pointing a finger at Harry. “To steal my dog!” 

Harry’s giggles quickly turned into a cackle at that, which finally disturbed Reggie enough that he scrambled up and gave a breathy huff before stepping over Harry completely and sprawling out on the other side of him. Harry laughed harder, bringing his arms up to wrap around his stomach and Louis couldn’t help but laugh along with him, no matter how much betrayal he felt. Harry rolled over onto his side, facing Louis, and propped his elbow up to rest his head against. 

He looked down at Louis, who was still flat on his back, still chuckling quietly to himself. Louis breathed in deep through his nose, blinking up at Harry and unconsciously looking down at his smiling mouth. It hit him how close they were, their buffer dog no longer in between the two, and it made Louis’ breath catch in his throat. He looked up at Harry, at the soft smile that was across his face, and there was definitely no chance of him breathing anytime soon. 

_I really want to kiss you._

Louis eyes widened slightly just at his thoughts, his heart skipping a beat in his chest because _what the fuck._

Harry’s eyes flickered down to Louis’ mouth before switching back to his eyes. Harry continued smiling softly down at Louis, either oblivious to the fact that Louis was having a silent panic attack or ignoring it. “This has been a really good day,” Harry finally said, his tone barely above a whisper. Louis swallowed the lump in the back of this throat, parting his lips to respond but finding himself speechless, so he just nodded dumbly instead. 

Harry smiled down at him again, his tongue sneaking out to swipe across his bottom lip, making Louis’ insides twist together. _Fuck, I really want to kiss you._ Suddenly, Reggie jumped up from his nap and started barking aggressively, causing both Louis and Harry to startle out of whatever trance they had been in. Louis quickly sat up, watching as a squirrel ran past them, Reggie barking at the _“threat.”_

Thanks for ruining the moment, you twat. 

Louis sighed. “Knock it off, Reg,” he said. The dog laid back down but huffed the entire time. Louis swallowed the lump in the back of his throat before finally looking back over at Harry, who had also sat up to see what Reggie had been barking at. They made eye contact, staring intently at each other but without saying anything for what seemed like a lifetime. 

“We should probably get going,” Louis whispered, scared that if he said anything above a whisper it would ruin whatever was left of their moment. 

Harry nodded, pushing himself up into a standing position and looking back down at Louis. He hesitated for a second before extending his hand out to him. Louis gulped, staring at Harry’s big palm for a second too long before finally wrapping his hand around it and allowing Harry to pull him into a standing position. Once they separated, he coughed into his shoulder and croaked out, “Thanks.” 

“I’m gonna go get--” Harry didn’t finish his sentence, just pointed a thumb behind him to indicate he was going to go find the ball he had thrown earlier. Louis nodded, watching as Harry jogged off across the field. He took the moment to steel himself, letting his eyes close and taking a deep breath in. All things considered, this had been a _really_ good day--and Louis was proud of the way he had handled most of it. 

(Even if there were still a few details he’d leave out when recapping the story to Niall later.) 

Once Harry returned with the would-never-be-fetched ball, they slowly headed back towards the parking lot and to the oversized truck that awaited them. Harry wordlessly lifted Reggie into the back, clipping his lead onto his collar before settling down in the driver’s seat. He looked over at Louis, his hand hesitating to turn the key in the ignition, and they held their gaze for a moment before Harry smiled at him and started the truck. 

The drive back to Louis’ house only took them a few moments, since the park was just down the street, and they rode in comfortable silence. Louis gathered up the bags of Reggie’s toys once they were in the driveway, shutting the door with his elbow before walking around to the other side of the truck, just in time to see Harry settling the dog on the ground. “You know, he could probably jump out of the back.” 

“He’s _way_ too old to jump that far!” Harry protested. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “He’s not _that_ old.” 

“The king should never have to jump anywhere,” Harry said, grinning at Louis. 

“Oh, so he’s a king now?” Louis asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Of course,” Harry replied easily. “King Reginald. It has a nice ring to it.” They stood in silence for a few moments, the afternoon sun still beating down on them. 

“Thank you,” Louis finally said, his tone quiet as he stared down at his Vans, “for today.” 

“Thank _you_ for today,” Harry repeated, causing Louis to look up at him. Harry stood with his hands stuffed inside the pockets of his shorts, a small smile across his face as he looked at Louis. “I--yeah. I really needed it.” 

Louis’ chest ached. 

“I can’t believe you flew all the way back from London this morning and then spent the last five hours here,” Louis chuckled. “How are you not, like, dead?” Good job, Louis. Excellent deflection of Harry’s serious response. Top notch. 

Harry shrugged one shoulder, resting his palm flat against the side of the tall truck and leaning his head against his shoulder. He stared down at Louis with an adorable smile, one that did nothing to help Louis’ current situation. In a tone no louder than a whisper, he finally responded with, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

Louis’ breath caught in his throat. 

_I really, really, really want to kiss you._

Louis swallowed, looking down at the plastic bags in his hand and then back at the porch where Reggie was already waiting impatiently. He finally looked back at Harry, down at Harry’s mouth, and then back up to Harry’s stupidly green eyes. He swallowed again. “Go home and sleep.” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry said around a grin. 

Louis coughed. 

_Dead kittens, dead kittens, dead kittens._

“Good night, Harry,” Louis said, his voice cracking in the middle, slowly taking a step back from Harry. Harry smiled even wider, because _of course_ he had done that on purpose, because Harry Styles was _the worst_. Harry Styles was going to be the reason that Louis was put into an early grave. 

“Good night, Louis.”  
  


***

> **@Louis_Tomlinson: @MrsAnneTwist** Thank you thank you thank you for the biscuits, love !!! You are THE BEST ever !!!  instagram.com/p/LAp3N8Cdi/

  


> **@MrsAnneTwist: @Louis_Tomlinson** You’re very welcome, love bug! Miss you tons! 

  


> **@Niall_Official: @Louis_Tomlinson @MrsAnneTwist** ??? I WANT BISCUITS TOO !!!!! 

  


> **@MrsAnneTwist: @Niall_Official @Louis_Tomlinson** Niall Horan! You never call, you never write… what have you done to deserve biscuits? 

  


> **@Louis_Tomlinson: @MrsAnneTwist @Niall_Official** HAHAHAHA SICK BURN MRS. T !!!!!! 

  


> **@Niall_Official: @MrsAnneTwist @Louis_Tomlinson** :( :( :( :( 

  
Okay, so this was a thing Louis was doing.

Apparently Louis felt comfortable enough with their newfound friendship that he deemed it acceptable to tweet Harry’s mum, without first even asking Harry’s permission. Which, for your average lad it wouldn’t be a big deal, but… they were still Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson and--yeah. The Larry Shippers were going to go wild for this one. 

But besides, Harry was _definitely_ sleeping by now. 

He had hours and hours of jet lag to sleep off. 

He wouldn’t have been able to respond if Louis _had_ asked. So yes, totally justifiable. 

Louis sat back into the couch, pulling his legs up and smiling down at his phone. 

Yes. He was okay with this.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm reasonably sure that jet-lagged Harry is now my _favorite_ Harry. 
> 
> Hi everybody! As you can see, I have somehow survived my hellacious trip across the country and back to retrieve my nieces and nephew... but in doing so (WHICH I THOUGHT WOULD IMPROVE MY KARMA???) the thanks I have received is in the form of a terrible stomach virus. So excuse me while I spend the next few days in bed, living off of gatorade, applesauce and regret. 
> 
> My personal struggles aside, thank you so so so so much for all the amazing feedback on the last chapter! I love you all so much! I hope you enjoyed this fluffy chapter. I started this fic basically so I could write the fluff, which is very different from my normal angst-only style, but I'm living for it! Let's all go drown ourselves in the feels now. 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	6. Part Six

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/b2c0b84bb5426507447fa1c6f7251911/tumblr_inline_ot2adjwkRa1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  


_Note to self_ 
_I deffff shouldn’t watch cooking shows_ 
**And why is that?** 
_Becuzzzzz Harold !!! They make me so hungry !!!!!_ 
**I think that’s the point, mate. That’s how they get you.** 
_Ur not helpin !!_ 
_I just watched Giada make the most delicioussss looking brownies and it’s not fair_ 
_Where are MY brownies ?_ 
_Why don’t I know Giada ?!?!?!_ 
_WHY DIDN’T I INSIST ON MEETING FOOD NETWORK STARS BACK WHEN WE WERE COOL AND FAMOUS ??_ 
**Knowing Modest, we would have been stuck with the likes of Bobby Flay, not sweet little Giada. We’d be introduced and he’d instantly challenge us to a throw down. That’s a lot of pressure for a first meeting. I don’t know if I could handle it.** 
**“Hiiii Bobby, I’m Harry--” “TIME TO THROWDOWN A MEATLOAF, BITCH. CAN YOU HANDLE IT?!”** 


Louis snorted down at his phone, his cooking show long forgotten. Harry Styles was absolutely ridiculous. Louis hadn’t stopped smiling since their conversation had started, but now he was positively beaming.

_HAHAHAHAH you’re spot on with that !!!!!!!_ 
_Bobby Flay is such a cock !!!_ 
**If I had my choice at Food Network stars though, I think I’d have to go with Ina Garten.** 
_THE FUCKIN’ BAREFOOT CONTESSA ? REALLY HAROLD ?!!!!_ 
**She seems like a lovely lady!** 
_she reeks of arrogance !!!_ 
**Nah, mate. She throws parties all the time and always has a bunch of friends on speed dial. She’s also happily married and is always cooking things for her husband! She makes really good food too. Just the other day, she was making these lemon scallops with a white wine sauce that looked ace. We definitely should have befriended her.** 
_do u even hear yourself ?!?! Scallops and wine ?! lame middle aged parties ?!_ 
_GIADA MADE BROWNIES, HARRY ! BROWNIES._ 
_YOU USED TO BE A BAKER, MATE. SHOULDN’T THE WORD BROWNIES GIVE YOU A BAKER’S BONER OR SUMMAT ?_ 


Louis paused to snort again. Damn he was funny.

_and also, Giada is ITALIAN. Pasta every day ! Happy daysssssssss xx_ 
**How do you know “brownies” DIDN’T give me a baker’s boner?** 


Louis eyes widened at his phone, blinking down at it rapidly and re-reading Harry’s texts about thirty times in a row. Right. Erections were funny. They were lads. Lads joked about cocks all the time. Louis lived for a good dick joke. Right. That’s totally why he was feeling tingly. No other reason. 

He swallowed, still staring down at the message, not knowing how to respond. _WWMGD?_ Right. Okay, Louis could do this. He cracked his thumbs out before typing out his totally breezy response.

_Becauseeeee mate, if you DID , you wouldn’t have brought Ina Garten into the equation !! Or her dumpy husband !_ 


Breezy _and_ funny. Louis was a catch.

**I don’t know, mate, I did say she was happily married. Mmm… commitment.** 


Louis’ eyes widened again because--that was an inside joke of theirs from _back then._

Back when they’d be laying in bed together after a nice tossle in the sheets, coming down from their highs and giggling back and forth with each other. Whenever either of them would mention the future, it would always end in Harry moaning, _Mmm, Louis, call me your spouse again_ before they’d break out into a fit of giggles. (Or, you know, Louis _would_ call him that and--no. We weren’t going down that path.) 

Louis swallowed, staring at Harry’s message and not knowing how to respond. He finally settled on sending him a bunch of thumbs down emojis, figuring that was diplomatic enough, before locking his phone and hiding it in between the cushions of his couch because _danger zone._ He needed a breather. He turned the volume back up, watching the rest of Giada’s show with a blank expression. 

And if he happened to watch the next two episodes that followed, nobody had to know. It was a Tuesday afternoon and he had already done his duties for the day--coaching the over-twelves down at the field--so he had every right to waste the rest of the day on his couch. What broke him from his Food Network spell, though, was the faint sound of Harry’s diesel truck idling outside his house. 

Okay, technically it could have been _any_ diesel truck, but _Chance was a small town_ and he didn’t know of any other truck that sounded like Stella did. Louis’ heart rate picked up as the engine cut off. He quickly stood up, jogging over to the window and slyly peering through, his suspicions being confirmed when he saw Harry getting something from the backseat of his truck. Louis quickly let the curtain close, looking down and realizing he had never changed after he returned from practice earlier, still wearing the black and white track pants and grey _Chance Athletics_ shirt. 

Jesus, Harry was going to think Louis had completely let himself go. 

Louis should probably do something about that--but, at the same time, Harry had a horrible habit of just _showing up_ when Louis wasn’t expecting him and it wasn’t fair! Louis wanted to catch _Harry_ off guard next time, just to give him a taste of his own medicine. Louis was broken of his thoughts by Reggie, who perked up his ears and scrambled from his bed to wait by the door, his breathy huffs starting up. 

Louis opened the front door, leaning his hip against it and crossing his arms over his chest as Harry made his way up the path. “Most people wait for an invite, you know,” Louis said, though there was no heat behind it because _Harry was here what the fuck._ Harry just grinned, raising his arms in the air to show the multiple Pig Wig bags he held in his hands, causing Louis to squint in confusion. 

“I come bearing supplies,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and _fuck. He was so perfect._ He was back in his tight black skinnies today, a dark blue tee stretched across his broad chest and--right. Louis had to stop staring. It was rude. And if Louis noted that Harry’s short hair seemed to be perfectly styled, as if he had just done it, he _definitely_ wasn’t going to mention it. 

“Supplies for what?” Louis challenged, his voice showing his suspicion. 

“Brownies, obviously-- _good afternoon, Reginald,”_ Harry said, instantly getting side tracked by the dog’s head poking around Louis’ legs. Harry crouched down on the porch, setting the bags down next to him before offering up his palm to the dog. Louis rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming before it even happened. “Can we shake hands, please?” 

“Harold, honestly,” Louis groaned, watching as Reggie just sniffed his palm. 

Harry reached forward, gently grabbing Reggie’s arm and setting his paw down on top of his outstretched palm, completely ignoring Louis in favor of the dog. “Good boy! Good shake!” he encouraged, shaking the dog’s paw. Louis snorted when Reggie sniffed around where they were touching before twitching his paw away. “You’ll get there,” Harry sighed, finally standing back up and grabbing back up his bags. 

“He’s not ever gonna shake your hand, mate,” Louis said, stepping back so Harry could come inside the house. 

“One day,” Harry said, making his way into the kitchen as if he belonged there, Louis slowly trailing behind with a confused expression across his face. He watched as Harry set the Pig Wig bags down on the island before he started to unload them all and _what the fuck was he doing here?_

“He’s nine years old, Harry,” Louis said slowly, still watching as Harry picked out different items from the bags. “Old dog, new tricks, remember? And-- _what in the fuck_ is all this?” he asked, gesturing to the ingredients spread across the island and not giving Harry a chance to answer his original question. 

“Brownie stuff, obviously. Weren’t you listening before?” Harry answered easily. 

“What?!” Louis laughed, leaning against the opposite counter and staring at Harry with an amused expression across his face. 

“Hey, you started this, pal,” Harry said, pointing an accusing finger at Louis, who gawked as a response. “ _You_ were the one who brought up brownies. You know how impressionable I can be.” 

“I thought that was only a Drunk Harry thing,” Louis snorted, causing Harry to glare at him. “Sorry, sorry,” Louis said, holding his hands up. “And it wasn’t _my_ fault, it was _Giada’s_ fault. That little wench was the one who had to go ‘nd make the most delicious looking things I have ever seen.” 

“And you’re the one who dragged _me_ into it, so, I blame you.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, stepping forward and grabbing one of the plastic bags, peering in at the different chocolates that were resting inside. His eyes lit up. He tried to slyly remove the bag of chocolate chips, but Harry reached over and snatched it from him before he could even attempt to open the bag. _Motherfucker_. Louis sighed, watching as Harry set small bags of flour and sugar down on the counter. 

“You know, I do have some of these things in my pantry. You could have just asked instead of buying all this stuff. And-- _what is all this stuff?_ Is that-- _you bought a fuckin’ brownie pan?!”_

“I didn’t know what you had!” Harry laughed, defensively snatching up the baking tin. 

“I’m twenty-nine years old, Harry! I have a bloody _brownie pan!”_

“Do you?” Harry shot back with an expectant look and--wait-- _did he?_ Shit. Louis quickly glided around Harry, pulling open the drawer underneath the oven and crouching down in front of it. He shoved the cookie sheet out of the way (...that Lottie had bought when visiting last summer), followed by the roasting pan (that… Lottie also bought him. She had become quite the mother hen over the last few years) and he finally _ah-ha’ed!_ when he pulled out the small 9x9 brownie pan, quickly standing and spinning around to face Harry with a satisfied smirk. 

He was _so totally_ an adult. 

(And his sister _totes_ didn’t buy this along with all the others… nope… that’d be embarrassing.) 

“Well,” Harry huffed, “this one is better.” 

Louis jaw dropped. “I’ll have you know, this is _Williams-Sonoma_ , Harold. I think it cost, like, three hundred pounds! It was handmade by little baby orphans. This is the Lamborghini of baking tins,” he said, swinging the pan around. Harry just gave Louis a dumb look, biting back his smirk as he walked over to where Louis was standing and gently flipped the baking tin over in Louis’ hands (Louis’ heart totally wasn’t beating faster or anything), and then pointed at the brand name imprinted on the bottom of the tin. 

_Great Value._

“Okay, so it’s from Walmart,” Louis said, laughing loudly. “But do you really think the Pig Wig’s baking tin is gonna be better than Walmart’s?!” 

“This is from my house, Louis, not the Piggly Wiggly,” Harry said, fondly rolling eyes. “So yes. I _know_ it’s better.” 

Louis huffed, the tin still held tightly in his grip as he waved it back and forth, trying to think of a comeback. “Nobody says Piggly Wiggly, you _noob._ It’s just the Pig Wig.” And--okay, admittedly not his best comeback, but he was flustered and Harry was still smirking at him. 

“Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever heard call it the _Pig Wig_ ,” Harry laughed, unloading another bag of ingredients before looking over at Louis and giving him a knowing look. 

Louis glared at him. “How--why-- _how did you even know this was Great Value?!”_ Louis demanded, grabbing Harry’s baking tin that he had set down and holding them both up side by side. “They look the same!” 

“Those of us in the culinary field just know these things,” Harry said, winking at Louis. 

“Oh, piss off,” Louis said, setting both baking tins down on the counter before hopping up on the island, his feet dangling below. “Just for that, I’m eating some of these,” he said, snatching the bag of chocolates that Harry had taken away earlier and prying the plastic bag open. With his feet swinging below, Louis smiled happily while munching away, causing Harry to groan. 

“At least leave enough for the brownies.” 

“We’ll see,” Louis said, tipping the bag into his hand and spilling out another handful of chocolate chips, tossing them all back into his mouth at once and chewing with his mouth wide open at Harry. “So, are we using Giada’s recipe? I bet you can find it online somewhere.” 

“You know, in order for it to be a _‘we’_ thing, you have to actually help,” Harry said around a smirk. 

“I am helping!” Louis kicked his feet against the island in protest, shaking out another handful of chocolate chips into his palm. “I just suggested the recipe!” 

“And then suggested _I_ could find it online somewhere.” 

Louis rolled his eyes dramatically. “Alright, then, ya big baby. Hand me your phone and I’ll look it up.” 

Harry paused, his hand halfway towards picking up the bottle of vanilla extract, slowly looking over at Louis. “Where’s _your_ phone?” 

Louis blinked back at him. “Not in my pocket, like I’m sure _yours_ is…” 

“Um. I’ll go grab your phone, just tell me where it is,” Harry offered, coughing into his shoulder and avoiding Louis’ eyes. _What the hell?_ Why was he acting so weird? 

“Relax, Harold. I’m not gonna read your naughty texts or snoop through your nudes. I just need Google,” Louis said, holding his hand out expectantly at him. Harry stared at his hand, his eyebrows furrowed, and the longer he stared _the more curious Louis got._ “What? Do you have PornHub paused or something?” 

“What? No!” Harry said, his eyebrows still furrowed and looking anywhere other than Louis. Why was he being so weird about his phone? Louis really did have phone manners, he really wasn’t going to snoop through his phone--but now that he was acting so fucking strange about it, maybe he would. 

(No, he was raised better than that. Shit.) 

“Okay…” Harry said, his tone quiet and unsure as he slowly reached into his back pocket and removed his phone. He handed the black iPhone over to Louis, his eyes locking on his for a moment before he rushed to say, “The passcode is my birthday. I need to--use the loo.” _And then he was gone._ What the actual fuck? Louis blinked down at the phone, holding it loosely in his hand, his feet no longer knocking against the cabinet underneath him. 

Was his phone set to self-destruct or something? 

He hesitantly clicked on the home button, mentally prepared for the phone to explode into a million pieces, and he watched as the screen came to life and--oh. 

_Oh._

Louis’ breath caught in his throat, staring down at the background picture with wide eyes. The picture was one that Niall had taken during the 4th of July, except it wasn’t the one he had posted to Instagram that night. This was, assumedly, the one that Niall had deemed as _“perfect”_ but that Louis had never seen. Harry was smiling brightly in the picture, Niall too, but Louis-- _Louis was smiling at Harry._ His expression was soft, his eyes gleaming at Harry and _oh my god._ Louis was so _obvious._

Jesus Christ. 

He could never hide his fond expressions when it came to Harry. He knew because it used to get him in trouble all the time, back with management and with Don the social media nazi, and somehow even though almost eight years had passed, Louis still couldn’t find his chill when it came to Harry and-- _fuck._ Harry made it his _background._

_What the fuck did that mean?_

It had to mean something--that’s why Harry was acting so fucking weird. 

Jesus Christ. 

The phone went black again and Louis was quick to hit the home button, staring at the picture so intently his eyes crossed. He repeated the process three more times, swallowing roughly before finally swiping the phone unlocked and typing in Harry’s birthday. He made a mental note to scold Harry about that, to tell him he was just as bad as Niall when it came to password strength, but--he’d scold him at a later time. Right now he needed to focus on not making a big deal out of this. 

_WWMGD?!_

(Probably use her own recipe, not Giada’s.) 

Louis pulled up Google with shaky thumbs, typing in “brownie giada” and not even caring if the correct recipe popped up. His eyes were scrolling through Giada’s recipes, but his brain was stuck on the background picture. _What the fuck did it mean?_ Why would Harry set that as his background? Louis knew it had been a good day for all of them, but why _that_ picture? Why couldn’t he have used the funny one Niall posted? Or one of the other ones that didn’t meet Niall’s selfie standards?

Why did he choose the one with Louis heart-eyeing the fuck out of him? 

Jesus. Louis needed alcohol. 

He set Harry’s phone down, the browser opened to (what he hoped was) a brownie recipe, because he couldn’t focus enough to actually read through it, before hopping down off the island and opening the fridge. He stared at the beer bottles neatly lined up at the bottom, then quickly decided he needed something stronger than that. He shut the door and made his way over to the liquor cabinet in the dining room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey before heading back into the kitchen. 

And, apparently, it had been just enough time for Harry to emerge back into the kitchen. 

This was a turning point. 

Should Louis bring up the picture? 

Should he act like he didn’t see it? 

Should he turn around and run out of the house? 

_WTFWMGD?!_

He tried desperately to run through Friends episodes in his mind, frantically trying to find a similar situation and how Monica would have reacted to it, but as it turned out, there wasn’t any episode about The One Where Harry Changed His Background Picture To a Disgustingly Cute Picture Of You. 

Probably because that episode title _did not_ roll off the tongue very easily. 

Also, even Friends couldn’t predict how truly unfortunate Louis’ life had become. 

“So, um,” Louis said, clearing his throat and setting the bottle of whiskey down on the island. Harry looked over at the bottle, then down to his unlocked phone, and then finally over to Louis. _Fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or fucking flight, Louis! Make a god damned decision!_ “Uhhh…” he said dumbly, scratching at his temples as his brows furrowed. “You remember that episode of Friends when Monica leaves the message on Richard’s answering machine and ends up saying, _‘I’m breezy!’?”_

Harry blinked at him. 

Right, flight it is, apparently. Of course Louis picked flight. Louis was a big pussy. 

“Um… yeah?” Harry finally said, his Adam’s apple bobbing with it, looking back down at his phone and touching the screen so it wouldn’t turn off. 

“What the hell does breezy mean?” Louis asked, grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet and setting them down next to the whiskey bottle. “Because, apparently, I’ve got no fuckin’ idea.” And, _ain’t that the truth._ Every time Louis had tried to be breezy it seemed to backfire. Louis really needed to find out what the hell breezy meant so he could try harder.

“Uhh…” Harry trailed off, squinting down at his phone before finally looking over at Louis. His expression showed how confused he was, and Louis begged him with his eyes, _Please, let’s never talk about this!!!!!_ Finally, Harry cleared his throat and said, “I think it means, like, casual? She was trying to be casual…” 

“Hm. Casual,” Louis noted, unscrewing the lid of the whiskey and pouring some into both glasses. “Interesting. I thought it meant, like--” Wait, Louis didn’t know what the fuck he thought it meant. Finally he shrugged, reaching into the freezer and grabbing two handfuls of ice to add to the glasses. “You want soda?” he asked, nodding down to the glass. 

“I didn’t know I wanted whiskey?” Harry said, his smirk finally returning as he looked over at Louis and--wait, hadn’t Louis asked him if he did? Louis stared down at the two glasses, replaying their conversation in his head, before giggling quietly. 

“Oh. I thought I asked you,” he said. “Um, hey, Harry, do you want a drink?” 

“Sure.” Harry nodded. “With soda, please.” 

Louis sighed in relief, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a can of coke before cracking it open and pouring some into both glasses. Harry silently went back to his phone, scrolling through the recipe and humming every once in a while as he read, and Louis tried not to make an arse out of himself as he stirred their drinks and slid Harry’s across the island. 

Right. They’d just forget this ever happened. 

Louis could just add this to the ever-growing list of Future Louis’ problems. 

Future Louis was going to be really fucking busy, poor lad. 

“Alright, Giada it is,” Harry said, reaching over and picking up the glass Louis had prepared and taking a small sip of it. “Jesus Christ, that is _all_ whiskey,” Harry said, grimacing at the glass and looking up at Louis. Louis laughed, leaning far over the island to pour more soda into the glass. 

“Lightweight,” Louis coughed, smirking up at Harry. 

“Heeeeyy,” Harry whined, frowning at Louis, and _okay._ Back to normal. “Where are your mixing bowls?” he asked, wiping his hands on his jeans before looking at Louis expectantly. 

“Um.” 

“Louis,” Harry groaned, “please tell me you have a mixing bowl.” 

“I do!” _Did he?_ Louis set his glass down, narrowing his eyes at Harry as he slid past him, opening up three different cabinets before finally remembering where Lottie had stashed them. (He didn’t cook, okay?!) He turned around with the big yellow bowl in hand, smiling proudly as he set it down in front of Harry. “I ate cocoa puffs out of it one night when I was drunk,” Louis said, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. 

“Jesus,” Harry laughed, “it must have taken a whole box to fill this.” 

“It did.” 

“Did you finish it?” Harry asked, pulling open the drawer he was standing in front of and examining its contents (silverware), before sliding the drawer shut and opening the next one (random utensils that he didn’t understand). 

“Are you callin’ me fat?” Louis laughed, watching as Harry stared down at the drawer full of shame utensils. 

“No! It was an honest question,” Harry laughed, looking up at Louis. He pointed down at the drawer. “What in the hell is this?” 

Louis blinked. “The… utensil drawer?” 

“Your utensils are over there,” Harry said, pointing over to where a canister sat next to the stove with the few cooking tools Louis actually used. (Two spatulas, a wooden spoon, and a whisk.) “What are these?” he asked again, raising a mocking eyebrow as he pointed down at the open drawer in front of him. 

“Other… utensils?” 

“Really? What is this?” he chuckled, picking up some sort of contraption that looked like a torture device, if they were being honest. 

“Oh, that? That’s the, um… smusher.” 

Harry tossed his head back with laughter. “The _smusher?!”_

Louis frowned. “Get out of my utensil drawer, Harry Styles!” 

“This”--Harry held up the torture device--”is a _garlic press.”_

“Well, if ya knew what it was, what’re you askin’ me for?” Louis said, then crossed his arms over his chest and glared.

“Is this where you hide everything that you don’t know?!” Harry asked, a wide amused smile on his face and _Louis fucking hated him._

“No!” Louis defended. 

“Who bought all this stuff?!” 

“I did!” Louis gaped. “I’m a grown man!” 

“ _You_ bought a garlic press?” 

“Yes.” 

“For all your garlic pressing needs?” Harry snickered. 

_“Yes.”_

“Where, exactly, in the Piggly Wiggly would you find a head of garlic?” 

Louis glared at him with his arms held tightly over his chest, his eyes shooting daggers across the island at Harry. Stupid perfect Harry. Louis wanted to kiss that stupid, mocking expression right off his face. 

And--wait, _what?_

Fuck. _Fuck._

“In the garlic aisle,” Louis answered easily, ignoring the fluttering of his heart. 

Harry cackled again, his eyes squeezing shut and his dimples appearing on both cheeks. Louis kind of wanted to spill some whiskey in them and lick it out. _Fuck._ Louis needed to get a grip. Harry was _making fun of him_ , he should be offended--not thinking of kinky things he could be doing to him. That background picture really fucked with his head. 

“Get out of my utensil drawer!” he repeated, his voice coming out frantic and high-pitched. 

Harry continued to laugh loudly, finally closing the drawer and looking up at Louis with tears in his eyes. “You haven’t changed a _bit_ , you know that?” Harry shook his head, resting his big palms flat on the island. Louis blinked at him, blindly reaching for his whiskey with a shaky hand. “You used to drive me crazy whenever you’d empty the dishwasher.” 

“Hey, fuck you, I was helpful!” 

“You were!” Harry laughed loudly. “You just… had no idea where anything went, so you’d just toss it in the first empty spot you’d find.” Louis glared at him, his heart hammering in his chest because apparently this was a thing they did now--they talked about back then. 

If there were a soundtrack to Louis’ life, _Highway to the Danger Zone_ would begin playing in the background right about then because _fuck._ This was unchartered territory. 

Also, like, was Highway to the Danger Zone an actual song, or was it something Top Gun created for the drama? Had he ever heard it in any other situation? Was it ever on Top 40 radio? Who the hell even sang that song? For now, Louis decided he should refer to it as _Highway to the Danger Zone™_ , just so his lawyers couldn’t get their knickers in a twist. 

He really needed to go outside more and stop watching so many horrible 80s movies. 

(Later, when he found himself YouTubing the song, he would realize it was just titled _Danger Zone._ He’d store that piece of triv in the back of his mind for a rainy day.) 

And it was a good thing Louis didn’t have a soundtrack to his life at all, because he’d probably get stuck listening to Alanis Morrisette’s _Ironic_ on repeat all the time, because really, _his life was fucking horrible sometimes._

Or--even worse-- _What Makes You Beautiful._

Louis visibly shuddered at his thoughts, Harry noticing and slowly raising an eyebrow at him. Louis brought his whiskey glass back up, taking two huge gulps before setting it back down. “You alright?” Harry asked, his smile fading and-- _shit._ Louis didn’t want Harry to think he was freaking out over Harry talking about _them._

“Yeah, I was just thinking, like…” Louis chuckled, shaking his head. “If I had a soundtrack to my life? Like, what if I was expecting all these bitchin’ songs to be playing in my head all day… but then it was just What Makes You Beautiful on repeat?” Louis finished, his eyes opening wide as fear took over his features. 

Harry laughed loudly, shaking his head and saying, “Oh man. That would be torture.” 

“Can you even _imagine_?” 

Harry laughed quietly, taking a sip of his whiskey and setting it down, a small smile sneaking onto his face. Louis leaned against the counter behind him, judging Harry’s expression and trying to figure out what he was smiling about. Harry finally looked up at Louis, his grin growing even wider. Louis gave him a worried look in return, because, what? 

Harry cleared his throat and then sang out, “Everyone else in the room can see it--” 

_“Don’t you fucking dare,”_ Louis said, eyes wide, his jaw dropping. 

Harry grinned even wider, his deep voice singing, “Everyone else but youuuu.” 

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Louis said, covering his ears, not able to contain his chuckles though. 

“Baby, you light up my world like _nobody else!”_ Harry sang out at the top of his lungs, throwing his arms out wide in a theatrical gesture. Louis held his ears tighter, shaking his head violently as he darted out of the room, Harry quick on his heels as he sang around his laughter, “The way that you flip your hair gets me _overwhelmed!”_ Louis slid around the corner, Reggie scrambling up from his pillow to see what all the commotion was about. Louis turned on his heels and darted down the hall. 

Louis’ bare feet were slapping against the hardwood floors as Harry chased him, still singing at the top of his lungs. “But when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell, you don’t know, _oh oh!”_ \--just as Louis piped in with _No, no!_ in the same tone of the song--”you don’t know you're beautiful, _oh oh_!”-- _no, no!_ \--”That’s what makes you beautiful!”

Louis’ cackles echoed around the house as he rounded back into the kitchen, Reggie now on their heels as they flew through the room at top speed and into the dining room. Harry bent over laughing, resting against one of the dining room chairs. Louis, on the other side of the table, bent forward and rested his hands on his knees as he panted, his eyes narrowed at Harry, waiting for him to lunge. 

Reggie trotted around the table three times in the amount of time they stood there panting at each other, daring each other to move. “Have you--quite finished?” Louis asked, breathing heavily as he grinned at Harry. 

“There’s a whole ‘nother verse coming, _darlin_ ’,” Harry shot back, biting down on his smirk, using the term of endearment that was most commonly heard around town and--right. Louis would ignore that. 

Louis’ jaw dropped open. “You wouldn’t dare.” 

Harry grinned wider. “So c-c-come on, you got it wrong--hey! Stop!” Harry couldn’t finish the beginning of the verse because Louis had lunged at him instead, but really, _who the fuck could blame him?_ Nobody in their right mind wanted to listen to this god awful song. The same god awful song they had been forced to perform thousands of times, even when they had newer, _cooler_ , songs. “That’s not--fair!” Harry said, in between giggles as Louis attacked his armpits, remembering that they were the most ticklish spot on his body. 

“Surrender!” Louis yelled, Reggie now more excited and barking at them from his spot in the doorway. 

“Never!” Harry exclaimed, bending forward with his arms wrapped around his chest to try to shield his armpits from Louis’ attacks. Louis took it one step further, by trying to reach over Harry’s broad back and get to the pits that way (which was ridiculous, because Harry was much taller than Louis), so Louis ended up basically sprawled out across Harry’s entire back--his crotch pressed tightly against Harry’s bum and-- _no._

_Highway to the danger zone!!!!!!_

They both seemed to notice their compromising position at the same time, because Harry went stock still and Louis quickly removed himself from Harry and took four gigantic steps backwards, his back almost touching the wall. Harry stood up straight, turning around with his arms still protectively covering his armpits, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Louis was still breathing heavily, as was Harry, and they were just staring at each other from across the room. Reggie scurried in between the two, his nails slipping on the hardwood in all of his excitement, looking over at Louis and wagging his tail so hard that his bum swayed back and forth. Louis smiled at the dog, reaching down to scratch his head before looking back up to Harry. 

_Fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight._

Louis took a deep breath in through his nose, holding his palms out to Harry in a gesture that read _Truce?_ Harry slowly dropped his arms from his pits, his expression still pinched and unreadable to Louis. Reggie turned in a circle, now facing Harry, and Louis watched as his eyes switched down to the dog and his expression was replaced with a smile. 

Thank god they still had a buffer, even in the form of a dog. 

“C’mon then, Styles. These brownies aren’t gonna bake themselves.”  
  


***

_NEIL_ 
_So much happened tonight !_ 
_Where r u ???????_ 
_Oh its past 3 there_ 
_OOPS_ 
_ok ill just recap it for you, you’re welcome_ 
_So im sittin there watching Giada, as one does on a tues afternoon amiright? , then i txt harry and im like yo! Brownies yo! and hes like oh wordddd? And then like outta the blue he just shows up at my door ! with all this stuff from the pig wig ! so then we’re makin brownies, well, hes makin brownies, and im like yo! Lemme see your phone so i can find the recipe!_ 
_then the dude goes and gets all weird on me_ 
_Like SUPER weird_ 
_SUEPR SUPER weird_ 
_and then finally he gives me his phone and goes runnin off and i turn it on and BOOM!_ 
_Its that fuckin picture you took at the 4th ! !?!?!?!?_ 
_Of me going all goo eyed at him_ 
_Like wtf?? Why did he put that as his background picture ??????? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ??????????_ 
_So then like we’re jokin back and forth, shootin the shit , and he starts tryin to sing WMYB and im like O HELL NO M8 and we get into like this play fight and i might have ACCIDENTALLY pressed me cock against his arse_ 
_LOL ROFL LMFAO AHAHHAAH !!!!!_ 
_OOPSIES_ 
_………._ 
_but then it got kind of weird for a while ……………….._ 
_but its ok, we recovered_ 
_but like_ 
_WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN_ 
_BECAUSE LIKE_ 
**Fucking god damn shit Louis jesus Christ it’s 345 in the morning** 
**Why r u like this** 
_NIALLLLOLLL YOU’RE ALIVEEEEE_ 
**Fuck u mate. LEARN THE TIME DIFFERENCE. Its been 2 years!!!!!!!!!! I hate you im turning my phone off goodbye** 
_Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaame_ 
_Love you sweet thing !!!!!! CALL ME TOMORROW SO I CAN FINISH MY STORY_ 


  
  


* * *

  
  
Early the next morning, Louis was woken up to the sound of his phone buzzing around his bedside table. He peeked his eyes open, still noting that it was dark in the room because the sun hadn’t risen yet, before quickly slamming his eyes back shut. The buzzing eventually stopped, only to start right back up again afterwards. Louis groaned, rolling over onto his side and burying his head in the crook of his arm. 

The buzzing stopped, then started again. 

“Okay, what the fuck,” he moaned, stretching his arm across the bed until he could finally pick up the buzzing phone, his forehead falling back down to the bed when he saw it was Niall calling. Okay--he deserved that. He slid his thumb over the answer bar, slowly bringing the phone to his ear and then, in a muffled voice, he said, “Hi, Niall.” 

“Louis! My best mate! How the hell are you?!” Niall screamed in his ear, causing Louis to wince and pull the phone back a few inches. He dug his nose deeper into the mattress, groaning quietly while Niall cackled in his ear. “Oh, I’m sorry, _is it a bit early there, mate?_ What a fuckin’ _shame!”_

“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, good night, Niall,” Louis said, lifting his head up so he could squint at the phone to hang up on Niall, but Niall’s tinny voice coming through the speakers made him bring the phone back to his ear. “What?” he asked flatly. 

“I said don’t be that way, sunshine! I just wanted to hear the end of your story!” 

Louis pulled the phone away again, squinting against the harsh light so he could read the clock. “It’s five in the morning.” 

“Not here in beautiful London! Wey-hey!” Louis groaned again, smushing his face back down into the mattress, the phone haphazardly pinned to his ear. If this was how Louis has acted whenever he woke Niall up at some ungodly hour over the last two years, _how were they still friends?_ Niall should have dropped his sorry ass years ago. “Come on, then, baby doll! Tell me your story! What happened after you made the brownies?” 

Louis pulled himself up on his elbows, staring down at his pillow. “We”--he rubbed sleep out of his eye--”watched a movie, ate most of the brownies, and then he left.” Okay, right, he _definitely_ would have told that story better last night. But, like, it was _five in the morning_ and he hadn’t gone to sleep til past three and, like, _it was five in the morning._

“What movie did you watch?” 

“Um,” Louis grumbled, his brain not working yet, “Batman.” 

“Which Batman?” 

“I don’t fucking know, Neil, the one with the dead guy.” 

“Wowwww, somebody is _cranky_ in the morning! Are you talking about Batman: _The Dark Knight?”_

Louis sighed, rolling flat onto his back and blinking up at the ceiling. “Yeah. That one.” 

“The one with the dead guy,” Niall mocked. “You should bite your tongue. Heath Ledger was a genius. You should speak of him as such.” 

“Whatever, man,” Louis sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his fist. “It’s too early.” 

“So did anything happen during the movie?” Niall asked and--was he eating an apple? While on the phone with Louis? Who the fuck eats such a crunchy snack while talking on the phone? Especially at five in the morning?!

“I mean”--Louis paused--”lots of things happened. There was this thing with a pencil and--wait, you’ve never seen it?”

“No, not the movie, you dumbass. I meant with _you ‘n Harry.”_

“Oh,” Louis said, dropping his fist back to the bed and blinking his eyes open again. “Um. I don’t know. Kind of? Like, I guess it was more of… progress. It was a feeling. You’d had to have been there.” 

“What kinda feeling?” 

“Jesus you’re chatty,” Louis groaned, rolling over onto his side and letting his arm dangle off the bed. 

“Payback’s a bitch, my friend.” 

Louis sighed, clearing his thoughts and waking himself up some more. “I don’t know--like, we just talked about a lot of stuff. We even talked about, like, things that had happened back when we were together. Not like, dramatic things, but... funny things.”

“Mhmm,” Niall hummed, wanting him to continue. 

“And it was just… easy. It felt right. It felt...nice.” 

“Is that why you dry humped him?” 

Louis laughed loudly, the laugh startling out of him even in his exhaustion, his laugh seeming to echo in the too-quiet house. But then he heard Reggie’s nails against the hardwood floor, and--sorry, mate. He rolled back over onto his back before saying, “I didn’t _dry_ hump him. We were, like...wrestling and it just kinda happened.” 

“Mmm. Famous last words.” 

“Piss off,” Louis chuckled. “Harry’s clearly, you know, _trying._ Like, making an effort. He didn’t have to show up to me house with spur-of-the-moment baking, but he did. I don’t want him to feel like--I don’t know. That he’s the only one reaching out.” 

“So, reach out back. Reach… back out? Reach-- _reach around?!”_ Niall asked, laughing at the end because he found himself funnier than anyone else did. “Fuck it, you know what I mean.” 

Louis laughed quietly. “Yeah. But like, what do I do?” 

“Ask him to hang out.” 

“And do what?” 

“I dunno.” 

“Niall!” 

“Jesus, you’re helpless,” Niall laughed loudly. “How did you ever bag Styles in the first place?” 

“He wee’d on my shoes,” Louis supplied easily, drumming his fingers on his bare tummy. 

“Oh. Right.” 

_"What do I ask him to hang out for?!”_

“I don’t know, mate, use your imagination. Tell ‘im you wanna watch the next Batman or something. Or, like, play damsel in distress and say you need his help with something.” 

“Like, what? Can’t reach a lightbulb?” 

“Well, that’s believable,” Niall laughed. 

“Fuck off, mate, you’re like. The same size as me.” 

“Nah, I’m deffo taller.” 

“By like, a hair.” 

“A buncha hairs.” 

“One hair.” 

“Like a tuft of hair.” 

“A single strand of hair.”

“We could ask Google, if you’d like,” Niall suggested, causing Louis to groan loudly. 

“For fuck’s sake, Niall.” 

Niall laughed loudly, “Alright. The bigger question is: _what do you want to come from it?_ What’s your endgame here?” Louis stopped drumming his fingers on his stomach, taken back by Niall’s question because-- _what the hell_ did _he want?_ He told himself a few weeks ago, when all of this started, that he wouldn’t think about being more than friends with Harry; that he would just focus on _becoming_ friends with Harry.

You know, baby steps. 

But now… he _was_ friends with Harry. 

The baby step had been taken. It was time for another step. 

“Uhhhh,” Louis said dumbly. “I… don’t know.” 

Niall sighed loudly. “You’re really annoyin’, you know that?” 

“Yes,” Louis replied sadly, because. He did know that. 

“Okay, so, like, What Would Monica Gellar Do?” 

“Mate,” Louis laughed, “I’ve got no fuckin’ idea. She’s kinda lettin’ me down here,” Louis chuckled, shaking his head to himself because Monica had yet to solve any of his problems. “Maybe I chose the wrong character. Maybe it should be, like, WWCBD?” 

“Chandler would just make jokes until Harry left him alone.” 

“WWRGD?” 

“Uh… talk about dinosaurs? Or be generally annoying? All I know is that Ross it the worst and you definitely don’t want his advice.” 

“True,” Louis sighed. Sorry, Ross, but were you _anybody’s_ favorite? Louis highly doubted it. “WWRG--oh. They have the same initials. That’s awkward. Uhhh… WW _the other_ RGD?” 

Niall just cackled. “ _The other_ RG would probably, just... take him shopping? Hey, that could work! Go flash your Amex Black around Chance. Be his sugar daddy.” 

Louis snorted. “That might be a bit more impressive if we didn’t have the same net worth.” 

“Ehh, details, details!” Niall laughed. 

Louis rolled his eyes, flipping back through Friends characters. “WWJTD?” 

“Justin Timberlake?! What the hell’s he got to do with it?” 

“Niall. We’re talking Friends characters. Please keep up.” 

“Right! Uhhh… JT. Joey would probably ask Harry out for sandwiches and _how you doooin’_ him. Hey, that’s not a bad idea, actually. Sandwiches are fuckin’ classic. It’s hard to fuck up a sandwich, you know? Even a bad sandwich is still… a sandwich.” 

“Mate. Are you tellin’ me I should take Harry to, like, a Subway?” 

Niall cackled. “Get that footlong, baby!” Which caused Louis to laugh loudly. Fucking Niall Horan. “Call him up, _Hey Daddy, you wanna get twelve inches tonight?”_ Niall said in a high-pitched voice, _which totally did not sound anything at all like Louis._ Louis snorted loudly though, bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. He fucking loved Niall. 

They both laughed obnoxiously, Louis suddenly wide awake. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna pass on that one,” he said, chuckling quietly still. 

“Alright, well, pal. You’re out of Friends.” 

“How very _dare_ you, Neil. I’ve been savin’ the best for last.” 

“Who the hell else is there?” 

“Um!” Louis stated, clearly offended. _“WWPBD?”_

“Ohhh, I forgot about Phoebe.” 

“How could you forget about the _queen?”_ Louis gasped. “She’s my number one.”

“Really?” Niall laughed. “After all this talk about Monica over the past few weeks?” 

“Just because she’s my queen doesn’t mean she’s always the most... sensible.” 

Niall laughed. “Okay, WWPBD? She would… well, she’d probably just bang it out with Harry. You know, sexual frustration and all.” 

“Ugh, please, watch yourself or you’ll get my cock interested.” 

“Fuckin’ gross,” Niall laughed. “Wayyy too much info.” 

“Yeah, well”--Louis chuckled, though he _absolutely did not_ find it funny--”it’s been a while.” 

“Well, maybe you should take Pheebs’ advice,” Niall said and--was this conversation even helping? If anything, all it did was make him half-hard at just the thought of getting his cock anywhere other than his own hand. “Jesus. We’ve gotten seriously off topic.” 

“Well, it is five in the fuckin’ morning.” _And now my cock’s awake._

“So, what’re you gonna do?” Niall asked, going back to chomping on his apple. “Play the damsel card? Or go with the Batman card?” 

Life’s ultimate question.  
  


***

Louis and Niall’s conversation had lasted almost another forty-five minutes before Louis finally remembered how tired he was and that needed to go back to sleep. He thanked Niall for all his advice, for waking him up, and even for getting him half-hard at one point (which Niall was quick to _ugh!_ about), before finally disconnecting their call and going back to sleep.

When he woke up later that afternoon, he psyched himself up for a while before finally texting Harry and asking him if he wanted to come around later to watch the next Batman. He had been biting his lip the entire time he stared at the text, waiting for the typing bubble to appear, and thankfully Harry never took long to respond or he might have chewed straight through his lip. 

His reply had come quickly and easily, as if this was something they did every Wednesday.

**Sick. Yes, mate. Should I pick up Chinese on the way?** 


Louis really fucking loved him. 

It wasn’t until after the plan was set that Louis realized that pretty much all of their encounters and hang out seshes since Harry had returned to Louis’ life had revolved around food. But, like, _food was a safe space._ Everybody had to eat, most everybody enjoyed eating, and it always gave them something to keep their hands busy with so that they wouldn’t do something crazy, like sit too close together. 

And it wasn’t like anybody was around to judge their eating habits, anyway. 

So Louis busied himself for the rest of the afternoon, wasting time until six when Harry would be coming over. He had taken Reggie for a walk around the neighborhood, inevitably getting caught up in a conversation with one of his neighbors for so long that Reggie had laid down right there in the road to take a nap. By the time he got back home he was sweaty from the humid summer air and desperately regretting his decision to take Reggie walking in the first place. 

Reggie was _elderly._ He should probably stick to backyard poos from now on anyway. 

Louis had then showered all the sweat away and made sure his hair dried in a flattering way before standing in front of his wardrobe. He had thought to himself before that he should try to not look like such a hobo, but, really-- _he kind of was._ He hadn’t had a real job in five years, he lounged around the house most days, and more often than not, he ended up sleeping in late because he hadn’t gone to bed until the sun was coming up. 

Yes, Louis Tomlinson was a hobo. 

What would his fans think of him now? 

But for the sake of not being a _complete_ slob, he passed by his trackies and grabbed a pair of soft denim shorts, paired with one of his comfy threadbare tees because he was still kind of a hobo. It was just _Batman_ and _takeaway_ after all; it’s not like they were going to the Four Seasons. 

And--besides--this was Chance. If Harry was going to live here (which had been hinted at but still never determined, because Harry Styles was really fucking annoying sometimes), he’d have to understand that the Hobo Chic was _in_ , and YSL was _out._

Tough life, bro. 

Also, and probably the most important reason, _this wasn’t a date._ This was just greasy takeaway and a movie they’d both seen a few times before. He wasn’t _trying_ to impress Harry, because… they were just going to be mates. Or, at least, that’s what he had finally decided on the phone with Niall earlier that morning when prompted again with: _“What’s the endgame, bro?”_

All of the reasons above were how Louis found himself heading back out to the living room in his jorts and his comfy shirt, foregoing socks all together because it was too hot for them tonight. Just as he watched the clock turn six, he heard the familiar sounds of Stella in his driveway, and his heart _definitely_ didn’t change speeds because of it. No. That’d be ridiculous--and a bit creepy. 

Reggie’s ears perked up from his spot on the couch-- _even his dog was gone for Harry Styles._ Fuck. Louis watched as the dog slinked off the couch and shook for a moment before happily walking towards Louis, his eyes locked on the door and--yeah, bro. Louis felt the same way. If Louis had a tail (which thankfully _he did not_ ), it would be wagging, too. He readjusted the collar of his shirt before opening the front door and-- _Jesus Fucking Christ._

He _definitely_ shouldn’t have gone Hobo Chic, because Harry Styles looked like he was about to walk the fucking runway.

Louis reminded himself not to drool as his eyes slowly swept over Harry, at the extremely tight black skinny jeans, to the hardly buttoned black shirt _that he could fucking see-through?! What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?!_ Louis could _see his nipples_ , oh my god, he was going to die. He was going to drop dead. Just pass out right here on the spot because _why? What had he done to deserve this kind of torture?!?!?!?!_

His eyes snapped down to the grey Chelsea boots he was wearing, then back up to his perfectly swooped hair and. 

Yeah.

Louis was at half mast again. 

_What the fuck?_ Louis used to have control over his body. He hasn’t popped wood this easily since he was twelve years old. Or, since he first started fooling around with Harry... _but thinking about that definitely wasn’t going to help this situation._ Louis let out a tiny whimper, just quiet enough for only Reggie to hear, glad it happened before Harry was within earshot. 

Louis had definitely been a puppy-kicker in his past life, because his karma was _shit._

“Hey, mate,” Harry greeted with a smile. “Alright?” 

“Oh, me? Yes. I’m fine. Perfectly, totally, really fine. Just, you know, livin’ the dream and whatnot!” he said, his words coming out at top speed and then laughing all too frantically. Harry’s pace slowed as he gave Louis a confused look, a smirk slowly taking over his features. 

“Um. Okay, then,” he said, laughing and shaking his head as he stepped into the house. “Glad to hear it. _Good evening, Reginald_ , you dapper gentleman,” Harry said, once again ignoring Louis completely as he crouched down in front of Reggie. Louis shut the door, letting his forehead rest against the cool wood and squeezing his eyes shut--he was definitely going to make a tit out of himself tonight. “Shake my hand, please,” Harry said to the dog. 

Louis breathed in deep before turning around, watching as Harry tried to grab Reggie’s paw to place in his hand, but Reggie was too busy trying to shove his nose into the greasy brown bag full of their Chinese food. Louis rolled his eyes. “Mate. He’s way too fat to care about anything other than the food right now.” 

“Good shake!” Harry ignored him, finally wrapping his hand around Reggie’s paw and shaking it up and down. Meanwhile, Reggie was busy snuffling his way inside the grease-stained takeaway bag. 

“You’re pathetic, really,” Louis laughed. He wasn’t sure if he was talking to Reggie or Harry, but, both seemed appropriate so he didn’t clarify. He stepped around Harry, bending down to gently remove the paper bag from his hand. 

“Oh, I could get it,” Harry said, looking over at Louis’, whose face was _very close_ to his now. 

Fuck. He even _smelled_ good. 

Louis smiled. “You’re busy. I’ve got it.” He quickly stood back up and headed for the kitchen, squeezing his eyes shut again and thinking about everything in the world that turned him off, because _he was wearing jorts_ and they did nothing to conceal boners, what the fuck had he been thinking? _Comfort?_ Over _discretion?_

Jesus.

Louis shook his head, grabbing two plates from the cabinet and opening the paper bag, checking the contents before grabbing a few napkins and heading back out to the living room. 

“So, we could be proper, if you wanted? And eat at the dining table? But, I was thinking we just, kinda--” Louis didn’t finish his sentence and instead just gestured toward the coffee table. 

“Definitely the second option,” Harry said, grinning at Louis as he stood up. “I’m starved.” 

“Thank god,” Louis laughed, settling down on his knees behind the coffee table and unloading all of the red takeout containers onto the table. Harry sat down on the couch, scooting towards the edge and then setting their plates down in front them. “Have you realized”--Louis scooped some noodles onto his plate, then licked the grease off his thumb--”that pretty much all we do is eat together?” Louis asked, looking over at Harry as he popped his thumb out of his mouth. Harry quickly looked away from him and down to the table. 

Harry chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck before finally looking back over at Louis. He grinned brightly before saying, “I think you’re trying to fatten me up.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Damn, I didn’t think you’d catch on so quickly,” he said sarcastically. “Pretty stupid of me to bring up my _master plan_ in front of you.” 

“And--I think it’s working,” Harry continued, ignoring Louis’ sarcasm. “I went for a run this morning and halfway through I thought I was just going to fall over dead.” 

Louis laughed loudly, handing the container of lo mein over to Harry as he opened the next one. “How far did you run?” 

“Ugh, not even that far!” Harry said, gently scooping out a forkful of noodles onto his plate. “It was only, like, ten miles.” 

Louis gaped at him. “ _Ten miles?_ Are you fuckin’ insane? Who goes for a _casual_ ten mile run?” 

Harry looked over at Louis and chuckled, happily accepting the box of egg rolls. “It was supposed to be thirteen miles, according to my run schedule, but I ended up bowing out at the ten mile mark. _Because you’re fattenin’ me up.”_

_“You ran ten miles this morning?!”_ Louis exclaimed, completely ignoring Harry’s dig at him and making a mental note to berate him later for having a run schedule. “I didn’t even wake up til after one and you went out and ran a cool ten miles?!” 

Harry let his head fall back in laughter. “You? Sleeping til the afternoon? I am floored,” Harry deadpanned.

“Piss off, I’m very active,” Louis said with a smirk, scooping some cashew chicken onto his plate before sliding the container towards Harry. “Here, eat up, you probably burned off like a million calories this morning. How am I supposed to fatten you up if you keep doing things like that?” Harry smiled brightly at him, eagerly accepting the greasy container of chicken. “Ten miles. You’re makin’ us all look bad, curly.” 

And--okay, right, he hadn’t called Harry _curly_ in a very long time. 

Now the nickname didn’t even make sense, because his hair wasn’t long enough to be curly. 

Louis noted that Harry’s cheeks were pink as he avoided Louis’ gaze, the very old nickname not going unnoticed, but he was focused intently on scooping out extra cashews onto his plate. 

That dick, did he think Louis’ wouldn’t notice?

“Excuse you, cashew hog, what do you think you’re doing?” he asked, pointing an angry finger at Harry. 

“They’re full of calories,” Harry defended, “you told me to eat up.” 

“I didn’t tell you to _eat up all the cashews._ You’re ruining Future Louis’ cold leftovers!” 

Harry laughed loudly. “I’m sorry, whose leftovers am I ruining?” 

Louis bit down on the inside of his cheek. “Um… Future Louis’…” 

“You refer to yourself in different tenses?” 

“I do,” Louis said while nodding proudly, deciding to take Harry’s jokes in stride. Harry laughed even harder, shaking his head as he went back to picking out more cashews. “And you’re ruining it all for him! What is he supposed to eat, just plain old _chicken?_ These leftovers are going to be so unsatisfying!” 

Harry seemed to laugh even louder at that. “Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth?” 

“I do! And _Present Louis_ is going to kick _Present Harry’s_ fat arse if he doesn’t stop stealing all the cashews!” Louis exclaimed around a laugh, reaching forward and hastily snatching the container away from Harry’s sabotage and setting it safely aside. You’re welcome, Future Louis. 

“Future Louis,” Harry mocked, chuckling quietly to himself as he peeled open the container for the General Tso’s. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, _mate_ ”--Louis glared at him--”Mr. _I Have a Run Schedule.”_

Harry cackled. “I do! I have an app and everything!” 

“You’re such a _nerd_ ,” Louis said, biting his lip to keep his smirk from showing. “So what happens to your precious run schedule now that you’ve gone and bowed out early today?” 

Harry sighed dramatically. “Now I have to add three miles in somewhere before the end of the month. And, considering that’s only five days away and tomorrow is my off day, that doesn’t leave me many options.” 

“Who _are_ you?” Louis laughed, shaking his head. Harry grinned brightly at him. “How many miles do you run a month?” 

“One hundred.” 

Louis choked on his air, slapping his palms down on the coffee table as he coughed. _“One hundred miles?!”_

Harry laughed, reaching over to slap Louis on the back. “It’s not as bad as it sounds actually, when you stop and think about it. And, also, I don’t _always_ run a hundred miles every month. Sometimes my goal is set lower or higher depending on what I’m trying to accomplish. Like, if I was going to be training for a marathon, I’d have to up the number of miles I ran. It sounds intense, but--there are four weeks in a month, which means you’re only running twenty-five miles a week. Split that up into however many days you want to run a week and it’s a totally manageable number. If I wanted to run five days a week, that’s only five miles a day. Or I could break it up into two or three longer runs and have extra days in between. Easy peasy.” 

Louis’ jaw was practically on the floor, his eyes blinking rapidly at Harry. 

How was it possible that this awkward baby deer of a human ran one hundred miles every month, yet it took him ten minutes to explain how he did it due to how slowly he talked? 

Louis finally shook himself and said, “ _Easy peasy?!_ I can’t tell you the last time I even ran five miles. I don’t know if I’ve _ever_ run five miles! Not at one time at least.” 

“Of course you have!” Harry laughed, shifting his body so that he was facing Louis more. “You play footie all the time, that’s _all_ running! You’re just not tracking it or setting a goal for how long you’ll run, but you’re easily running a couple miles each time you play and--sorry, am I being a douche about this?” Harry asked, his excited smile slowly turning into a frown, his eyes casting downwards again. 

Louis’ heart sank. “Harry, _you’re not a douche_ ,” he said, reaching forward and touching Harry’s arm. “I was just takin’ the piss with you. That’s what lads do, yeah? You gotta let this douche thing go.” 

“I know.” Harry sighed, still avoiding Louis’ glance. “I just don’t ever want to be douchey again.” 

“You weren’t ever a douche, ‘Arold. _Let it go._ This was just bants! And, besides, running is your hobby, you’re not pushing it on people or preaching up on a soapbox about why everyone should run as much as you do. You were just explaining it to me. Not douchey. _Completely insane_ , but not douchey.” That finally brought a smile to Harry’s face, Louis returning it in full. “Okay?” 

Harry nodded. 

“Can we finally set this topic to rest?” Louis asked, smiling brightly at Harry. “No more douche talk?” 

“No more douche talk.” 

“Good,” Louis said, suddenly realizing that he was still gripping Harry’s arm. He quickly removed his hand, going back to loading up his plate with food. “I hope you realize I’m _definitely_ still going to take the piss with you about this though, because a hundred miles a month is fucking _batshit!”_ Louis laughed, which thankfully Harry returned and nodded happily. 

“I figured as much. “

“Good,” he said, looking back down to this plate. “Jesus, you distracted me from food. I didn’t think that was possible,” Louis laughed, smiling over at Harry who chuckled quietly. “You think Liam would be jealous if he knew we were watching Batman without him?” Louis asked with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

Harry laughed loudly, “Totally.” 

Louis’ eyes lit up. “We should totes text him just to piss him off.” 

Harry laughed but made no move for his phone; instead, he grabbed the movie off of the edge of the table and stood to load it in. Once the title screen had appeared, they both settled back onto the couch with their plates. They ate their food, both going back for seconds because it seemed to be _extra_ delicious tonight, while semi-paying attention to the movie. They had ended up making jokes over the dialogue, though, and they changed around the entire plot to make it funnier. 

Liam would _hate_ them.

Louis made a mental note to recap their version of Batman to him later on, just to fire him up. 

After his second plate was finished, Louis leaned back into the sofa, letting his bum scoot towards the edge, rubbing at his stomach through his shirt. He was definitely not at his most attractive, but, like, _he was about to burst._ “Maybe seconds was a poor idea,” he groaned, letting his head roll over to look at Harry, who was frowning down at his own stomach. 

“Why the _hell_ did I wear skinny jeans?” Harry asked, poking at his belly and at where the jeans dug into him. “There’s no room to _grow_ in there.” 

Louis laughed loudly. “I literally have no clue, mate.” Louis grinned at Harry, watching as Harry frowned down at his stomach and then turned to look at Louis, his bottom lip puffed out of his mouth. Louis laughed, reaching over and poking Harry’s lip with the tip of pointer finger before he realized-- _mates don’t do that._ He blinked rapidly, quickly pulling his hand back and turning away from Harry, pretending to be focusing on the telly. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Louis eyes focused on the movie but the images never really making it to his mind; it was okay, he’d seen it before. He wasn’t missing anything. 

“Ugghh,” Harry groaned, breaking them from their silence. “I feel like I’m going to pop.” 

Louis laughed, his hands still resting on his own stomach as he rolled his head back over to look at Harry. He looked Harry up and down again (because Harry was still focused on the movie), and even in his horribly slouched position, he was still--just-- _breathtaking._ In his stupid fancy clothes and his stupid expensive boots and _ugh._ “Why _are_ you dressed so fancy?” Louis groaned, though what he meant was _Why are you trying to kill me?_

Harry turned towards Louis again, their eyes meeting for a split second before Harry blushed and quickly turned away and-- _oh._ That was a weird response. “I dunno,” Harry finally said, his tone quiet and, what could be mistaken for, shy? “Just, um, felt like it.” 

All Louis had gotten from that was: _Just felt like forcing you into boner-patrol all night, no biggie!_

Louis rolled his eyes, pushing himself up off the couch and heading down the hall, ignoring when Harry groaned out, _“Where are you going?!”_ Louis pulled open one of his dresser drawers, grabbing a pair of mesh athletic shorts and then shut it with his hip before heading back out to the living room. Once Harry was within sight, still not having moved at all, Louis tossed the pair of folded up shorts at him, the pair landing on Harry’s head. 

Harry pulled the shorts off his head and down into his lap, looking up at Louis with an awestruck expression. “I fucking _love_ you,” he said, clearly without thinking of the implications. They both froze, Louis halfway back to the couch and Harry staring down at his lap because _highway to the danger zone, mate!!!!!!!_

Harry had obviously meant it sarcastically, or even as an over-exaggerated response to Louis’ gesture, but--it still brought back things that Louis wasn’t ready to feel yet. Even if he was already beginning to admit them to himself. He was definitely not ready to admit them to Harry, or around Harry, or in any situation that Harry might stumble his way into. 

Nope. 

Nah. 

Harry coughed. “Seriously. You’re, like, a life saver. My belly is forever grateful.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Shoulda just made you suffer, showing up here in your fancy clothes trying to make me look like a bum.” 

“Heeeyyy,” Harry whined, pouting at Louis again. “I wasn’t trying to do that! I just… wanted to look nice.” 

Louis paused, still standing in front of the TV (totally blocking the movie, but they clearly weren’t watching it anymore), openly staring at Harry as he blushed down at his lap and--okay. Right. Harry wanted to look nice. That was fine--Harry usually wanted to look nice. He was the total opposite of Louis in that way, in the way that Louis was lazy and would rather wear trackies and shorts every day, while Harry actually put effort into his appearance, but--this seemed different. 

Harry’s reaction to his words made that obvious. 

“Oh,” Louis finally said, not knowing how else to respond to that. He wanted to ask _Why? Why tonight, specifically?_ But he was too afraid to know the answer. He had a hunch that it was because Harry wanted to look nice _for him,_ because he felt like that was what Harry was about to say, but he was too afraid to ask his question. 

He was afraid it wouldn’t be the answer he wanted. 

He was afraid that it _would_ be the answer he wanted. 

Basically, Harry Styles scared the shit out of him. 

Louis was staring down at his feet, lost in his own thoughts, so he almost missed it when Harry said, “Stupid, I know.” 

“What was stupid?” Louis asked, looking up at Harry with a confused frown. 

Harry looked up at him and shook his head, still holding the half-folded shorts in his lap. “Nothing,” Harry said, but Louis knew he was lying. Louis watched as Harry stood up, leaning against the arm of the couch to unzip his boots and then remove them. 

Louis cleared his throat. “What were you gonna say?” 

“Hmm?” Harry asked, setting his boots down neatly next to the door. 

“What was stupid?” 

“Oh,” Harry said, his cheeks pinking as he looked down at his white-socked toes, wiggling them a little back and forth. “I was just--um--thinking that it was stupid of me, to uh, have dressed up tonight.” 

Louis took a step closer to Harry, still leaving a good bit of distance between them, though. “Why would that be stupid?” he asked quietly, even though he himself had been making fun of Harry just moments before--but that was _banter;_ this was serious. 

“Because,” Harry chuckled, avoiding Louis’ glance. “I mean--this was just, like”--he gestured towards their empty plates--”and here I am all…”--he gestured down at his clothes, chuckling again though missing the humor from it--”s’was stupid, that’s all.” _Because it wasn’t a date._

Louis frowned, taking another step closer to him. Harry looked up, then looked down at the small space between them, his eyes flicking back up to Louis’ afterwards. “Harry,” Louis said softly, “it wasn’t stupid. I--thought about it for a second, too, actually, but then I realized that… I’m super lazy and getting dressed in actual clothes is a lot of work.” Harry chuckled at that, shaking his head and scrubbing his hands down his still-pinked cheeks. 

“Yeah, but, you don’t _need_ to dress up because, like, you look amazing in anything you wear. You could put on the paper bag the food came in and still look better than anybody else in the world,” Harry said, chuckling quietly and smiling at Louis and-- _Louis wasn’t fucking breathing._ Harry said it so casually, like he was just stating facts and not _making Louis’ heart drop to the floor, what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._

“I’m sorry, and that’s coming _from you?”_ Louis asked, giving Harry a confused face. “Have you _seen_ yourself?” Which caused Harry to roll his eyes and--no. That would not do. “Seriously. You could literally have anybody in the world. They’d be crazy to turn you down.” 

“I don’t want just _anybody_ in the world. ‘Specially not just because I’m, like, not horrible to look at.” 

_“Not horrible to look at?!”_ Louis gawked, throwing his hands up in the air. “Jesus Christ, Harold.” 

“What?” Harry asked, a nervous chuckle coming out around it. 

“You are _annoyingly_ beautiful,” Louis said, his voice not even cracking for once, even as he stared directly at Harry, their eyes locked onto each other. That was how Louis saw the heat return to Harry’s cheeks and-- _Louis did that._ A thrill shot down Louis’ spine because it had been so long since he made Harry blush like that and-- _fuck._ He needed to change the subject before his cock decided to remember that, too. “Anyway,” Louis said, shaking his head, “uh, do you want a beer or summat?” he asked, pointedly stepping around Harry and heading towards the kitchen, mouthing to himself _What the fuck?!_

“Um, water, please?” Harry’s voice called from the living room. 

Louis returned a moment later, composed and with Harry’s water and his own beer. He set both down on the table, about to sit down on the couch as well when Harry cleared his throat, causing Louis to look over. “Um… could I, maybe, like…” 

“What?” Louis pressed. 

“Get a t-shirt, too?” Harry asked, grinning at the end and biting down on his bottom lip. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “You mean you don’t want to sit there with your tits out all night then? That’s not the Harry Styles _I_ know,” he said, and then quickly darted down the hallway to get Harry a shirt because he did not want to know what Harry’s reaction to that would be. 

They were definitely past the _highway_ to the danger zone and were just smack dab in the middle of it. 

Were they _flirting?_ Or, were they just complimenting each other?

What the fuck was this? 

Louis grabbed one of his larger tees from the drawer, which he knew would stroke Harry’s ego because, _yes,_ Harry was broad and _yes,_ Louis was tiny, whatthefuckever. After all they had been through tonight, Louis would rather them poke fun at Louis’ size than stay here in the danger zone all night. 

At least bantering about Louis’ smaller than average stature was normal.

Louis slid the drawer closed, pointing down at his crotch when he whispered, _“Behave, you.”_

Louis took a deep breath before heading back out to the living room, balling the shirt up and chucking it at Harry’s head again, sticking his tongue out at him after Harry had glared as a response. “You’re _welks,”_ Louis said, using his obnoxious abbreviation for _welcome._ Why anybody said full words nowadays was beyond him. Anything could be abbreviated. Abbreved. 

Harry raised his eyebrow at him. “If I live in Chance long enough, am I going to start abbreviating things that don’t need abbreviating, too? Is it, like, contagious?” 

“Yup,” Louis said proudly. “But it’s not a Chance thing. It’s just a Louis thing.” 

“Where the hell did you pick that up from?” 

Louis laughed. “It’s _totes_ Niall’s fault.” Because now he was just being ignorant. “We went through this phase where we imitated everybody like… Valley girls? I--don’t know, it was a dark time. But abbreviating seemed kinda like something a Valley girl would do? So when we’d use that voice, we’d abbreviate random words and--stop looking at me like that. It was totally manly.” 

Harry squawked out a laugh, slapping his hands together. _“Valley girls?!”_

“Yes.” 

“As in like”--he cleared his throat, then continued in a high-pitched voice--”Hi! I’m Kimberly, do you wanna go to Starbucks?! Ohmygod frappachinooooos!” 

Louis burst out laughing at Harry’s horrible Valley girl accent, his laughter instantly turning to his awkward squeaking that usually takes a while to get to. “Yes, mate,” he said in between laughs, “that’s exactly it!” 

Harry laughed along with him, shaking his head. “And you and Ni’ would just--what? Talk like that back and forth?” 

Louis grinned, letting his Valley girl accent return when he said, “Ohmygosh, _yes!”_

They laughed for a while after that--Louis still standing at the entrance to the hallway, Harry laughing loudly by the couch--saying random sentences back and forth to each other like he and Niall used to do. Finally they calmed back down, Harry chuckling quietly when he said, “Totally manly.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Go change your clothes. I’m tired of staring at your nips,” he said with a smirk, gesturing with a thumb towards the guest bathroom. 

“Right! Back in a tick!” Harry said, gathering up the borrowed clothes and moving to step past Louis. He paused in front of him, seeming to think it over for a moment before leaning forward and gently placing a kiss high on Louis’ cheek bone. “Thanks, Lou,” he whispered. 

Louis blinked rapidly, his pulse skyrocketing as he just dumbly stared at Harry. He watched as Harry grinned at him, then turned on his heel and sauntered down the hallway, whistling quietly to himself _as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened._

“What the fuck,” Louis whispered to himself, absentmindedly pressing the heel of his hand down on his crotch, trying to remember how to breathe. What the hell had possessed Harry to do that? They weren’t-- _they weren’t there!_

Louis hadn’t even gotten used to being this playful or flirty, _and now this?_ Jesus Christ. 

Louis was practically dripping sweat by the time he remembered how to walk. He grabbed his beer off the table and downed half the bottle in one go, his eyes going wide when he realized he was going to have to deal with Harry dressed in _his_ clothes for the rest of the evening. Fuck. Louis had made a big mistake. He definitely should have let Harry just suffer in his fancy clothing. 

Maybe he should have had a wank before Harry got here tonight, too. 

Louis was full of poor decisions today. 

He readjusted himself in his shorts, downing the rest of his beer before heading into the kitchen for a new bottle. When he returned, Harry was folding up his fancy clothing and setting them down on top of his boots. Louis just blinked at the broad expanse of his back, in _his_ white tee, trying to remind himself that _this was totally normal._

Bros shared clothes! 

Bros were… flirty?

Bros... _kissed each other’s cheeks!_

Okay--they definitely weren’t bros and this wasn’t normal. But Louis would have to somehow make do. 

“How much of the movie do you reckon we’ve missed?” Harry laughed, standing back up in his casual clothes and looking _so fucking beautiful_ that Louis wanted to whimper. Did Louis even remember how to speak? He opened his mouth and--nope. He did not. 

Harry gave him a questioning look, ready to ask him if he was okay, but thankfully Reggie chose that moment to get up and distract Harry. 

Louis really loved his dog.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allll the flufffffffffffffy feelings!!! And look at Harry being just another Louie and changing his background picture. He's so sappy. (She says, while her background picture is literally [this](https://68.media.tumblr.com/c6f35b3df43dbc992d4b14e7edf19fc5/tumblr_ot2nb7r9d21s8zwceo1_540.png) .... shhh) 
> 
> Hi lovelies! I hope you all are well! I am finally feeling human again after being sick for the majority of the week, just in time to head back to North Carolina for the weekend and get some serious Chance vibes going on in my brain! It's a lovely state, really. The next chapter is heavy... (but huge story development! Promise! It's not just angst for angst-sake), so I hope you enjoyed the fluff before the storm! 
> 
> Thank you all so so so much for the wonderful feedback and kudos on the last chapter! A friendly reminder that I am literally not above begging for feedback of any kind... I worked on this story for 11 months with _no_ feedback from the outside world and now that it's out here and people are finally reading it, I'm kind of going crazy to see how people react to certain parts. Soooooo like... comments big or small make me dance! I love you all! 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	7. Part Seven

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/82a5d53e18c4c3de0985189f89d7cc9b/tumblr_inline_ot7r9j3SOo1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
July 28th was Louis’ dark day.

He had coined the phrase a few years ago after watching an episode of Gilmore Girls, the episode based around the fact that Luke--the diner owner--had a dark day every year where he would disappear into the woods to be emo by himself. Up until that point, Louis had always just referred to July 28th as _the worst fucking day of his life_ , but he found _dark day_ to be catchier and less likely to land him on suicide watch. 

So, thanks, Luke Danes. 

Eight years ago on this very shitty day, Louis and Harry had ended their relationship for good in a stupid hotel room in Seattle. Louis fucking _hated_ Seattle. Nothing good ever happened in Seattle. It was always raining, people tended to be suicidal if they were from there, and, really, have you ever watched a single episode of Grey’s Anatomy? Because tragedy seemed to strike there _constantly._ Who the fuck would ever want to live in Seattle?

But Louis hated it for a very different reason. 

Seattle was where all of his dreams had died.  
  


///

  


Louis was supposed to be at the hotel hours ago, but everything had seemed to go wrong. He was dragged into a last minute meeting, sitting in an over-decorated conference room being scolded by everyone sitting around the table for being spotted with Harry a few days before. But it wasn’t his fucking fault, okay? How was he supposed to know there were fans around the pool _at fucking four in the morning?_

If anybody should be blamed for it, it was their security team. 

_They_ were the ones that had said it was clear for them to be out there. 

But. Whatever--Louis tried hard not to be too bitter about it. 

The meeting had lasted hours longer than it should have. They kept insisting that Eleanor come out right away and that Louis spend a nice lovely weekend with his beautiful, devoted girlfriend, but, _no._ Louis had to put his foot down because _this was his weekend with Harry._ They hadn’t spent any real time together in, god, _forever,_ and they had been waiting for Seattle because they had two days off in between shows and had been cleared to stay in the hotel together those entire two days. 

He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, compromise this weekend with a PR stunt. 

Not when the thought of having a weekend alone together seemed to be the only thing holding their relationship together by this point. 

They were--struggling. 

Louis knew that, Harry knew that, _their entire team_ knew that. 

But they were just going through a rough patch. Everything was complicated right now because of touring and not being able to spend any real time alone together. The Larry Shippers seemed to be multiplying by the day and, damn it, that really fucking complicated things.

A few months ago, Louis and Harry could easily sneak around, especially late at night. But the more popular One Direction got, the more popular _Larry Stylinson_ got, which meant-- _there were always fans creeping about._ And Louis was fine with that, for the most part, except when they started to really keep him away from his boyfriend. 

That’s when it became annoying. 

And if some stupid fan hadn’t been sneaking around the pool a few days ago, snapping blurry pictures that _didn’t even look like Harry and Louis_ , none of this would be happening right now. 

He’d already be back at the hotel with Harry, starting their weekend in, watching a movie or eating room service, or _hopefully_ fucking their frustration out on the bed. 

Or in the shower. 

Or against the window--Louis really wasn't picky.

But instead, Louis was sitting in this cold conference room staring at the rain pounding against the windows, shaking his head every time they asked him to reconsider. 

Finally, after _literally hours_ , he had gotten them to agree that Eleanor would meet them in San Jose, the next stop on the tour, and they’d be spotted out getting Starbucks before the concert that night. Considering what was originally pitched to him, Louis felt pretty fucking proud of himself. Sure, he’d still have to sacrifice two-ish hours at the end of their weekend together to go grab a frappe with Eleanor, but _come on._

He was a fucking God right now. 

He wiggled his phone out of his pocket, ready to text Harry the good news, but his heart sank a little when he read the texts waiting for him, all sent about half an hour apart while his meeting had been going on.

**Where are you?** 
**Are you almost done?** 
**I’m at the hotel now… do you have any idea what time you’ll be here?** 
**Can you please just respond to me? It will take two seconds…** 
**Whatever.** 


Louis sighed quietly, ignoring the rest of the meeting as he read over Harry’s texts a few times, finally pulling up the keyboard to respond.

_Sry love ! I just saw this… the meeting took FOREVER. I’m almost done now , waiting for my car to pick me up_ 
_Talked them down from a crazy idea !! everything's a GO._ 
_El isn’t flying in til San Jose_ 
_Be there soon xx love you babe !!!_ 


Louis stared at his phone, waiting to see the typing bubble appear to show Harry was responding, but as the minutes ticked by he realized that maybe Harry hadn’t seen it yet. (Or maybe he wasn’t going to respond at all--but, Louis refused to believe that.) He sighed quietly, slipping his phone back into his pocket, and he didn’t check it again until he was in the car heading back to the hotel. 

Still nothing. 

Okay, that was fine. He was probably in the shower or something. 

Louis looked out of the window of the SUV they had stuck him in, watching as raindrops raced to the bottom of the glass, telling himself over and over again that everything would be fine once they were alone together. That didn’t make the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach go away, though, not once during the entire half hour it took to get back to the hotel. 

Louis opened the door to their room, glad to finally be done with everything, and as soon as the door opened he was able to see Harry standing at the foot of their bed, his back turned to Louis, unpacking what was left of his suitcase. Louis smiled, letting the door shut before saying, “Hi, love.” 

“Hi,” Harry said, but his voice sounded… weird. Louis frowned at his back, stopping to kick off his shoes by the door before turning back to face Harry, watching as he picked up a shirt off the bed and gently placed it in his suitcase. 

Oh. 

He wasn’t _un_ packing… 

“What… are you doing?” Louis asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he slowly made his way towards the bed, Harry pointedly not looking over at him. 

“I’m going to LA,” Harry said simply. 

And-- _what?_

Louis heart rate picked up in his chest, that nagging feeling that he had felt in the car instantly returning to his stomach. He _knew_ something had been off when Harry hadn’t responded to his texts.

Harry _always_ responded.

“You’re… going to LA,” Louis confirmed, but Harry didn’t say anything, just grabbed another shirt and placed it on top of the other one. Louis’ heart was pounding now. _What the fuck?_ They had _plans!_ “But… I thought we were gonna spend some time together?” Louis asked gently, not wanting to set Harry off but _he couldn’t leave, what the fuck?!_

“Yeah. Me too,” Harry said, his words clipped. He still hadn’t turned around or looked at Louis once since he entered the room. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, staring hard at the side of Harry’s face, his eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and his stupid fucking packed bag.

Louis took a step forward, gently touching Harry’s shoulder. “Babe--” 

“Dont,” Harry said, flinching away from Louis and taking a step back. He still didn’t look at Louis when he said, “Just don’t, okay?” Then he turned and headed for the en suite. Louis swallowed hard, blinking down at the packed bag, wondering what the hell he had done this time. He hadn’t _meant_ to ignore Harry’s texts! He was in a bloody meeting, after all, and they would not have appreciated Louis checking his phone in the middle of it. 

And, okay, Louis had known that Harry wasn’t going to _like_ the fact that Eleanor was flying back out, especially when she had just left, but--this was only going to cut two hours off the end of their _two day_ love fest! Louis didn’t think it was that big of a deal! The first option that was presented to him had _definitely_ been worse! 

Harry returned from the en suite, sliding around Louis with his toiletries bag in hand so he could stuff it inside the black suitcase. Louis knew he had to say something, he had to stop Harry from leaving, but every time he opened his mouth nothing would come out. He didn’t understand why Harry was so _angry_ right now--not when Louis had been fighting for them for the last few hours! 

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Louis said, his voice coming out forced. “I--they wanted me to see El this weekend, but, I talked them out of it, yeah?” Louis continued, trying to make his voice sound hopeful at the end. “I had to fight them really hard on it because they didn’t want to agree with me, but, I did it. So, we can have this whole weekend just like we planned.” 

Harry _was ignoring Louis._

He wasn’t saying anything! 

It was like he wasn’t listening at all to the words that were coming out of Louis’ mouth, even though they were the only sounds in the room. Louis almost wondered if he had heard him. Was he that lost in his own thoughts? Was packing his bag _that_ important? Should Louis repeat himself? Louis brought his hands up to his temples, rubbing them roughly for a moment before dropping his arms back down. 

“Harry,” Louis whispered, staring at his back, watching as his shoulders tensed just at the sound of his name. “Why are you going to LA?” 

“Because,” Harry said, flipping the top of his suitcase closed. He finally looked over at Louis, for the first time since he entered the room, but it was only long enough for him to say, “I just--I can’t do this.” Harry shook his head and looked back down at his suitcase. 

“Do what?” 

“This!” Harry said, holding his hands out and gesturing around them angrily. He shook his head again, huffing out a breath before reaching down and zipping his suitcase closed. The sound of the zipper sent Louis into a blind panic. _He can’t fucking leave!_ The zipper was _mocking_ him; it was laughing at him, _Ha ha ha! Look what you’ve done now!_

“Haz, babe, _talk to me,”_ Louis said, aware of how frantic he sounded but _the suitcase was zipped._ Harry was done packing. _“What happened?_ We had this whole weekend planned,” he said, reaching forward and gently grabbing Harry’s shoulder again. Harry went willingly this time but he sighed all the the same. 

He let Louis turn him around, but when they were face to face, his eyes instantly went to the ceiling and avoided looking at Louis altogether. 

Louis kind of wanted to crawl under the bed and die. 

He let his hand drop back to his side, aware of how shaky he was, how frantic his eyes must have looked--not that Harry would look at them anyway. He stared at Harry, at the bottom of his jaw, watching as his eyes flickered back and forth across the ceiling, his breathing even as if this wasn’t bothering him at all. Louis swallowed the glass in his throat. “We’ve been looking forward to this…” Louis whispered, his voice threatening to give out on him. 

“Yup. And now I’m going to LA,” Harry said, looking to the other side of the room now. Louis’ eyes started burning, his throat feeling like it was constricting on itself, but he refused to cry. Harry’s voice was so _calm_ and _casual_ , it made the blood roaring through his ears so loud that he was afraid he would miss it if Harry said anything else--but Louis knew he wasn’t going to. Harry had said what he wanted to. 

“Please don’t go,” Louis whispered. 

Silence. 

Harry finally looked down at him and his eyes were… different. 

They were cold.

Louis had spent the last three years looking into those eyes, and not _once_ had he ever seen them look like this. 

After what seemed like a lifetime of just staring at each other, Harry took a step back, his legs touching the bed, before saying in a flat tone, “I’ll see you in San Jose.” He then quickly turned, grabbed his bag and stepped coldly around Louis. 

Louis whipped around, faster than he ever thought he could, and his voice was frantic when he exclaimed, “Harry!” but--Harry just kept walking towards the door. Louis felt like the room was spinning, like the floor was giving out underneath him--this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go. They never walked out on each other. 

Ever. 

Not like this. 

Louis had to say something, anything, to keep it from happening. 

“Harry, if you love me _at all_ anymore you won’t walk out that door!” he blurted out in a frantic tone, his voice cracking in the middle and his hands shaking by his side. Harry paused by the door, his hand gripping the doorknob, his head pointed down to the floor. “Please,” Louis continued, his voice weak and squeaky. “If I mean _anything_ to you still, anything at all, you’ll stay here with me tonight. Like we planned. _Please,”_ Louis said, and--he knew he was begging. He knew he was fucking pathetic. He knew he wasn’t playing fair. He knew he was manipulating Harry into staying in the most fucked up way, but, this was do or die. 

He knew what this meant. 

He was begging for his life. 

Finally, after what felt like days to Louis, Harry sighed loudly and dropped his hand from the doorknob. Louis let his eyes close for a second, relief washing over him, even if he knew this was going to cost him in the long run. He opened his eyes, watching as Harry ran his fingers through his ever-growing hair before finally turning back around and shaking his head as he stepped away from the door. “Fine,” was all Harry said. One word, in a tone Louis had never heard before. 

He stepped around Louis, avoiding looking at him, and set his bag down roughly on the end of the bed. He turned back around, looking down at Louis with those same cold eyes. Louis gulped, because now, with the way Harry was looking at him, the way he was acting so cold to him, Louis wanted to take it back. He should have just let Harry go, because this was somehow… worse. He was standing right in front of Harry and he felt _so far away._ He could literally reach out and touch him, yet he felt further away from him than ever before. 

He watched as Harry scrubbed his hands down his face, his eyes avoiding Louis, his jaw tight and full of frustration. “Let’s just--go to bed,” Harry said, shaking his head and turning back towards the suitcase to grab his toiletries bag again. 

“Okay,” Louis whispered, knowing his voice couldn’t go any louder than that. Louis headed over towards his own suitcase on shaky legs, crouching down in front of it to search for his toothbrush. He stood and turned around but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw that Harry had closed the bathroom door. Louis slowly sunk down onto their bed, staring with blurry eyes at the closed door, feeling like he had been slapped in the face. He and Harry would always go through their nighttime routines together and now--staring at the closed door--it was like he was already gone. 

Louis sat there and stared at the door, willing himself not to cry, not understanding how his perfect evening had ended up this way. Everything was so quiet in the room, but the quietness seemed to be screaming into Louis’ ears. He wanted to make it all go away. 

Eventually Harry opened the bathroom door, stepping out with just his skinny jeans on, his shirt folded up neatly in his hands. Louis watched as he set it down in the suitcase and started to unzip his black jeans, but Louis forced himself to walk away, to go into the bathroom and--close the door. Because apparently _that’s what they did now._ They couldn’t even share a sink to brush their teeth anymore. 

With the door closed, Louis leaned against it and covered his face with both hands. He breathed heavily into them, realizing that he was still shaking all over and not knowing how to calm himself down. He set his toothbrush on the counter before sinking to the floor, curling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, burying his head deep into the crook of his arm and his heart hurting so bad he could scream.

He had seen Harry mad before; he had seen him upset before. He had watched Harry cry for hours before. But he had never, ever, in the entire three years he’s known Harry, seen Harry act as cold to somebody as he just did to Louis. Harry was the kindest, most genuinely nice human being that Louis had ever met--Louis couldn’t understand how _that_ Harry and the Harry that waited for him on the other side of this door _were the same person._

Louis didn’t know how much time he spent curled up on the bathroom floor, but when he finally emerged from the bathroom all of the lights were off. Louis stood still for a second, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, before finally stumbling towards the bed. He numbly unzipped his jeans and pushed them off, readjusting himself in his black boxer briefs before tugging his shirt over his head. He shivered, feeling cold down to the bone as he slid underneath the covers, turning on his side and blinking at Harry’s back. 

Louis stared at the bare skin, the light coming from the balcony being just enough to make looking at Harry that much more painful. His eyes traveled from the back of Harry’s head, down his long back to where the sheet pooled at his waist and Louis just felt _so fucking cold._ He bit his bottom lip, the silence in the room deafening, trying to replay the events that had happened today to make sense of why he was _so fucking far away_ from Harry. 

Louis slowly reached out for Harry, sliding his hand down his flank, Harry instantly tensing underneath the touch. Louis wanted to sob. He shuffled closer anyway, his movements slow, eventually resting his forehead between Harry’s shoulder blades and breathing in deeply. He still smelled the same, but everything was wrong. He slid his hand around to Harry’s stomach, pressing a long kiss to Harry’s warmed skin.

“I love you,” Louis whispered against his back, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, Louis’ heart hammering in his chest so hard he swore Harry could probably feel it. Louis finally pulled his head back a few inches, just enough to look at the side of Harry’s face. “Harry?” he whispered, Harry finally humming out an acknowledgement, his stomach tensing under Louis’ hand. “I love you,” he repeated, hoping that maybe he just hadn’t heard him before.

Louis held his breath, waiting for Harry to say it back, but Harry just laid there silently. All of his muscles were tense where Louis was touching him, like having Louis cuddled up behind him was the last thing in the world he wanted. Even though they _always_ slept like this, with one of them wrapped around the other, _even when they were angry._ Harry finally hummed again, short and deep, probably just so that Louis wouldn’t say it for a third time and--Louis wanted to die all over again. 

In that moment, Louis wasn’t sure if he had ever hurt that badly before. 

Louis removed his hand from Harry’s stomach, slowly backing away from him with wide eyes, his eyes already burning hot with the tears that were building. Harry sighed but didn’t move, didn’t try to turn around, didn’t try to stop Louis from backing away, _and didn’t fucking say it back._ Louis numbly turned over, his back now facing Harry, and buried his face into the crook of his elbow. It only took a few seconds before the tears came, one after another, flooding his face and dampening the pillowcase. 

Louis had always been a silent crier, but that didn’t stop his body from shaking with it, his ab muscles tensing with every tear that slipped out of his eyes. 

He hated _everything._

He hated what his relationship was now; he hated that he couldn’t make it better. He hated that Harry didn’t even love him enough to _lie to him_ by saying it back. He wanted everything to go away; he didn’t want to be on this stupid tour anymore, he didn’t want to meet any more fans (who had ruined his once-perfect relationship), or sing any more of their stupid songs. 

He was sick of all these stupid American cities--he just wanted to be back home in the UK where everything was fine and Harry didn’t hate him. He missed home so badly. Everything had been fine when they were home-- _their home._ They didn’t fight _in their home._ Louis squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pretend he wasn’t in a stupid hotel room in stupid fucking Seattle. 

He was back at home, in their fluffy king bed, and everything was _fine._

But everything _wasn’t_ fine. 

Everything was fucking awful. 

He should have never stopped Harry from leaving. At least then he’d have a reason for feeling like they were miles apart instead of just the other side of the bed. Louis continued to cry, continued to shake despite how hard he tried not to, and he knew Harry could tell because he kept sighing loudly, which only made it worse.

Only reminded Louis how _fucked up_ everything was. 

Louis wasn’t sure how much time had passed, was too focused on _hating everything about his stupid fucking life_ , but the bed finally moved behind him as Harry shifted around. Louis held his breath, his body temporarily not shaking as he just listened, trying desperately to figure out what Harry was doing. Harry sighed again and Louis could tell that Harry had turned so that he was now facing Louis’ back. Another tear slipped out of Louis’ eyes and ran hot down his nose and into the pillow but he didn’t move. 

Finally, after what seemed like years, Harry shuffled forward and settled his hand on Louis’ waist. Louis wasn’t breathing, wasn’t moving, wasn’t crying--Harry’s palm felt like it was burning a hole right through his skin. Harry shifted a tiny bit closer before wrapping his arm around Louis’ stomach--but _it all felt wrong._ It felt forced. Harry knew he had been crying, and no matter how cold Harry was being, at the end of the day Harry Styles was a good person; he wouldn't just listen to somebody cry all night and not try to do anything about it. 

He wasn’t doing this to comfort his boyfriend, who knew their relationship was falling apart; he was doing this to comfort his own conscience. 

That only made Louis cry harder. 

He could feel Harry swallow behind him, could feel his Adam’s apple bob up and down, and Louis thought he was going to say something, so he held his breath and just listened. But eventually his lungs felt too tight and he had to let it out and he realized--Harry wasn’t going to say anything at all. They were lying close enough together for Harry’s arm to be stiffly across Louis’ side and around his stomach, but they weren’t touching anywhere else. 

They were fucking miles apart. 

_This was all wrong!_

Harry didn’t _want_ to be comforting Louis; he felt _obligated_ to. 

Louis squeezed his eyes shut, another tear running across his nose just as he sniffled, causing him to feel like he was choking and he ended up coughing loudly, curling in on himself. Harry lifted his arm from Louis’ stomach while he caught his breath, _still not fucking saying anything_ , and it just hovered there until Louis finally settled back down, his breathing still ragged. 

Louis stared down at his stomach, staring at Harry’s arm that was held inches above his waist, not comforting and not soothing, just waiting for Louis to sort himself out. 

He counted the seconds in his head until finally, _finally,_ Harry let his arm relax back around Louis. 

Everything was fucking awful. 

More tears leaked out of Louis’ eye and raced down his nose and cheeks before finally landing on the wet pillow. Louis snuffled, knowing it wasn’t an attractive noise at all but it was still hard to breathe, Harry’s arm like a weight across his stomach that pinned him with regret. Reminding him how unnatural this all felt, how forced, how he knew Harry was just waiting for Louis to fall asleep so that he could roll back over. 

With his heart pounding, Louis reached down and grabbed Harry’s wrist, picking it up and pushing it off of him. “I don’t need your pity,” Louis said, his voice deeper and scratchier than usual, his words _complete bullshit_ because he _did_ need Harry’s pity; but he always had to push Harry. 

Always had to test him. Had to test how much he loved him.

The same way he had begged him not to leave tonight by challenging Harry’s love for him, and phrasing it in a way he knew would eat at Harry’s conscience. Louis was pretty much an awful fucking person, but it was like he couldn’t stop himself anymore. He was miserable, he hated everything that he had become--that they had become--and he was spiraling out of control. And no matter how much of a prick he was being, he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t fix himself. 

No wonder Harry hated him. He was the fucking worst.

Harry didn’t say anything and didn’t move his arm from where it was now rested between them. Louis squeezed his eyes shut again, wishing that he would somehow wake up and realize this had all been a horrible dream. Or maybe, if he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, he would be back in London and not in this stupid-ass town. 

But the harder Louis squeezed his eyes shut, the faster the tears would run over. 

He knew he was still trembling, every muscle in his body on high alert, his ears still listening for anything that Harry might say--but--he never said anything. Eventually, after a few more minutes of Louis silently crying but not going unnoticed, Harry lifted his hand up from the mattress and settled it back around Louis’ chest. 

Louis knew it was still a gesture of guilt. 

Louis kind of wanted to drown in his own tears. 

Louis eventually fell asleep, his body finally giving up, and when he woke up the next day--Harry was gone. 

There was no note, no text or missed calls, but Louis didn’t need them. He knew exactly what this meant. He had asked Harry to stay, and if he had loved him still, he would have stayed. Apparently it was an easy decision to make.

This was it. This was the turning point and Louis knew he had lost. 

He lost Harry. 

He lost them. 

He lost everything that had ever meant anything to him. 

He lost the only person in the world he ever wanted to love.

Louis fucking _hated_ Seattle.  
  


\\\\\

  


It had been eight years, but Louis was still haunted by that day. He could still feel the ghost of Harry’s guilt-ridden hand doing his _very least_ to comfort him at a time when Louis was truly falling apart. Louis had, as predicted, spiraled after that day. He spiraled for _a long time_ after that.

He drank a lot, he smoked a lot, he threw himself into groups of people he would have never hung out with before, because the silence was the worst. 

He hated being alone with his thoughts, because they would immediately go to Harry and he’d be reminded how he fucked everything up. How he had fucked his whole life up, and how he was left alone to live with the consequences. His life up until the day One Direction broke up was pretty much like never-ending torture. 

He broke up with _the love of his life_ and then was forced to spend the next two bloody years touring around the world together. What the hell did Louis do in his past life to deserve that? Surely he had done something worse than kicking a few puppies, because he wouldn’t wish what he went through on anybody. 

But that was eight years ago. That was before Louis knew that Chance existed. That was before Louis had moved here and finally fixed himself. That was before Harry came back into his life. Today was Louis’ eighth dark day, but it was also the first time that he and Harry were-- _something_ \--to each other and Louis wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

He wasn’t sure how that affected today. 

Louis still hadn’t decided if that made today better or worse.

So until he figured everything out, it was business as usual for his dark day.

The first thing he had done that morning was turn his phone off and shove it deep under his pillows--the same thing he did every year. After the first year, people learned to just let it happen; let him spiral out of control and not try to reach out to him until the next day.

But this year felt different, because _this year he had Harry._

But, at the same time, it really didn’t change anything. 

Because today still sucked, today was still dark, and he still wasn’t going to talk to anybody today--about anything. 

Today was his day to mope, and be grumpy, and be pathetic and cry a lot. He lived every other day of the year pretending he wasn’t still broken up about losing _the love of his life_ eight years ago, when he was only twenty-one and shouldn’t have been in such a serious relationship, but today was his one day a year that he could just--be dark about it. 

Today was his day to feel sorry for himself. 

He spent the majority of the day huffing around his house, cuddling with Reggie on the couch while staring blankly at the television, eating ice cream straight out of the container and leaving messes all around his house because _fuck doing any sort of cleaning_ today. But as the day turned to night, he couldn’t escape the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach (which was making all the ice cream he had shoved down there earlier suddenly seem like not such a good idea).

He didn’t even know what to call it; it was just an uneasy feeling he felt at the base of his stomach, like he was missing something or not doing something he was supposed to be doing. Kind of like that feeling you get when you’re leaving for vacation (or tour, in his case), and that you forgot something really important. (Ask the mum from Home Alone; that bitch knew the feeling better than all of us.) 

He sat around for a while trying to ignore it, finally deciding that maybe a change of scenery would help. It was well past midnight at this point, sometime after one, and thankfully Chance was mostly full of small-town people who didn’t like going out after dark, so he was confident that he could go for a walk without breaking the cardinal rule of his dark day. _(#1. Don’t talk to anybody.)_

That was how he found himself locking up the house and heading down the gravel road, dressed in shorts and a black tank, listening to the sounds of the crickets chirping and his shoes kicking up dirt as he walked. It was the middle of the night but it was still humid as fuck, Louis already breaking a sweat by the time he turned down the next block, his feet blindly leading him around as he tried to rid himself of the uneasy feeling that had tried to take over his body. 

He ended up walking around Lake John, where they had all watched the fireworks on the 4th together, and--yeah, it probably wasn’t _the best_ place Louis could have chosen, because it wasn’t like he needed another reminder of Harry on this day. But this late at night, the sounds of the lake were comforting. 

_Maybe_ he should have been worried that a murderer was going to pop out of the woods at any moment and turn this into the North Carolina Chainsaw Massacre, but--really, what were the odds of that happening? 

So instead he continued with his slow pace around the lake, trying to ease the tension from his body. 

When he would recap this moment for Niall later, he would pretend to be shocked that he ran into Harry; _I mean--the odds, right?_ He would tell Niall that he thought about running back home and avoiding Harry altogether, and that it was _Harry_ who had stopped him from doing so. But, in all honestly, the moment Louis saw Harry sitting on the edge of one of the docks, Louis was immediately drawn towards him. 

Like the feeling in the pit of his stomach had been _for this._

They had always had some sort of weird connection--which could probably explain how Harry had ended up in Chance when he had no idea Louis was here--so the fact that Louis somehow found him, without meaning to, wasn’t really a shock at all. (Though, again, when he recapped it to Niall, he’d make sure to act like he was offended to run into him. He had to keep up appearances, after all.) 

Louis’ feet seemed to echo against the the old wood of the dock, the water lapping at the edge of the lake mixing in with the sound of his footsteps. Harry didn’t look up, not even when Louis sat himself down a couple feet behind Harry and let his feet dangle towards the water below. Harry was sitting on the very end of the dock facing the lake, Louis facing off to one side of it, and neither of them said anything for a while. 

Harry never even looked back to see who it was--it was like they both, just, knew. 

Maybe Louis should have been worried that _Harry wasn’t worried_ that it could be the North Carolina Chainsaw Massacre, or the like, sitting behind him. But in the same sense that Louis had known it was Harry from the other side of the lake, even in the dark and without his glasses, Harry knew it was Louis without having to turn around and confirm it.

Louis could only sit in silence for so long though, before he finally said in a quiet voice, “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Harry said, without turning around, his voice equally as quiet. Louis looked over at him, taking in his small running shorts and old tee, a beanie plopped down over his head even though it was ninety degrees outside (the fucking Fahrenheit system always made it sound like they were sitting in the depths of hell, _WTF M8?!)_ , Harry clearly having just returned from, or had been in the middle of, one of his runs. 

They were quiet for a long time after that, Louis’ eyes staring down at his own feet gently swinging above the water. He felt Harry looking over his shoulder at him every once in a while, but he didn’t look up to meet his eyes. He kind of felt like Reggie, in the sense that his ears seemed to perk up every time Harry made a move--and if this were any other situation, he might chuckle at his comparison.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat and said, “I tried calling you earlier.” 

Louis looked over his right shoulder, staring at Harry’s back and the side of his face, Harry’s eyes intently looking at something on the other side of the lake--or, more likely, just avoiding Louis’.

“Oh,” Louis replied, his voice still quiet. “Sorry. I--uh--turned my phone off.” 

“Oh,” Harry said simply. 

Louis swallowed. “I… always turn my phone off today.” He probably didn’t need to add that, _probably shouldn’t have added that_ , but he felt like he needed to be honest with Harry tonight, no matter what. There was a reason they both found themselves on this dock. He wasn’t sure of the reason yet, but here they were. 

“Yeah,” Harry replied quietly. They went back to silence after that.

Louis tried to shake himself from his thoughts, though the silence did nothing to help that. He tried to shake himself from his memories; the same memories that had been haunting him all day--the same memories that had been haunting him for the past eight years. His stomach still felt weird, his whole body tense and nervous, but sitting there close to Harry seemed to calm him a little bit. 

Which was the exact opposite reaction his body should have had because _didn’t it know?_ Didn’t his body understand _Harry_ was the reason today always sucked? Not because it was Harry’s fault, because Louis blamed himself more than anybody or anything else, but considering today was the day to mourn the loss of his relationship, sitting near Harry should do anything but calm his nerves. 

Louis lost track of how long they had been sitting there in silence, the silence being as comfortable as it could ever be between them, all things considered. They both seemed to be lost in their own thoughts, both silently reliving that day or trying to convince themselves to stop thinking about it. 

Harry finally shifted on the dock, swinging his long legs around to Louis’ side so that they were sitting next to each other, and when Louis looked down he realized their hands were only a few inches apart from where they were both gripping the edge of the wooden dock. 

He looked over at Harry, smiling softly when they made eye contact, but his smile slowly faded when he saw the sad look in Harry’s eyes. “You alright?” Louis asked quietly, afraid to know the answer but still needing to ask. 

Harry shrugged one arm, a weak smile on his face. “Are _you_ alright?” 

Louis chuckled, even though nothing was funny, shaking his head slightly as he thought about the question. Louis shrugged back at him, looking down at the dock beneath them, his eyes locked on the tiny space between their hands. Silence stretched between them for a few moments, Louis finally looking back over at Harry, who was patiently waiting for his response. “Not really,” Louis whispered. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed quietly, looking down at his lap. “Me neither.” 

Louis watched as Harry pulled the beanie from his head, letting the beanie fall to the dock between them before running his hands through his sweaty hair a few times. Louis looked down at the black fabric, his eyes tracing over the edges of it as Harry shifted around beside him. “Sorry, I probably stink,” Harry said, lifting one arm and sniffing at himself. 

“You don’t,” Louis quickly said, looking back over at Harry, “really.” And somehow it was the truth. If Louis had run anywhere, even just the length of the dock, he would probably reek of sweat--especially in this heat. 

But, Harry Styles was perfect, so. 

They sat in silence again after that, the only sounds coming from their surroundings: the water lapping at the dock’s support beams, the crickets chirping back and forth with each other. The air was thick and humid, just like it always was this time of year, even in the middle of the night. Louis’ skin was tacky with sweat, he noted, as he ran his hands up and down his arms before relaxing them at his sides. 

His eyes glanced over to Harry’s thigh, his black running shorts riding up high up on his legs, Louis’ eyes focusing on the tiger tattoo that he hadn’t been around for. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, watching him, but he didn’t look over. He was scared of what he’d find if he met Harry’s eyes right now. 

“Lou,” Harry whispered, causing Louis to swallow roughly. Louis took a deep breath in before he forced himself to look up at Harry, watching as Harry chewed harshly on his bottom lip. Louis frowned, wanting to reach over and stop him, but he didn’t--he just waited for Harry to continue. “I’m… sorry. For, um, sneaking out that night.” 

Louis’ breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from Harry. 

“I know it’s too little, too late,” Harry continued, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat, looking down and away from Louis’ eyes, down to where their hands were almost touching. _“Way_ too late. I know it doesn’t--change anything or make anything okay. But we’ve, like… never talked about it. I never apologized. So”--Harry shrugged one shoulder, his voice going soft and quiet--”I’m sorry, Lou. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve _any_ of that, anything that happened or the way I treated you, but--I shouldn’t have just snuck out. I should have said goodbye.” 

“Harry,” Louis whispered, looking at the side of his face, looking at the way he was frowning down at his own lap. And--okay. They were doing this. Louis was an adult; he could totally handle this adult conversation, especially because this should have happened _eight years ago_. Right. Louis parted his lips to say something, but before he could, Harry continued. 

“You deserved _so much better_ than that. You… deserved so much better than me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper by the end of it, his eyes squeezing shut afterwards, and Louis felt like his heart was breaking all over again. He knew he would never be ready to have this conversation, and that now was as good of a time as any, but that didn’t stop his hand from shaking as he reached out and rested it gently on Harry’s thigh. 

Harry looked over at him, his eyes round and looking so hurt that Louis had to swallow hard before saying, “You deserved better than _me.”_ Harry parted his lips to say something but Louis continued, _“I_ was the one that let you down over and over again and disappointed you and--” 

“No.” Harry shook his head. “No, don’t say that--” 

“I fucked up everything and made everything _so much worse_ because I was too scared to--”

“--it wasn’t your fault!” 

They were frantically talking over each other at this point. They seemed to notice it at the same time and they both stopped, shut their mouths, and then just stared at each other. Louis’ heart was racing and his breaths were coming out unsteadily, Harry looking over at him with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip and--oh. Louis was still touching him. He slowly pulled his hand back, back down to his own lap, and then looked down at them. 

Harry was finally the one who broke the silence. “I was a coward,” he whispered, his words causing Louis to squeeze his eyes shut. “I waited until you fell asleep and then… just snuck out. Like a little fucking _coward.”_

“Harry,” Louis choked out, his voice cracking. 

Harry was looking down at his lap again, his hands twisting together in them. He was avoiding Louis’ gaze, glaring down at his own hands as if they had wronged him somehow. Harry was quiet when he spoke up again, but his tone seemed to rise with each word that tumbled out. “You deserved somebody who was stronger, and braver, and could put up with not getting everything he wanted all the time. But instead you had _me”_ \--Harry pointed at his chest with both hands--”this little fucking-- _boy_ of a man who was too weak to--” 

“Harry, _stop it!”_ Louis said, pulling one of his legs up so he could pivot to face Harry. He reached forward to grab Harry’s chin and made Harry look at him. “Look at me,” he said, waiting until Harry’s eyes flickered up at his before he continued in a stern voice. _“Don’t_ say those things about yourself, do you hear me? Not now, _not ever_ , don’t you dare think like that. You were--you were _the best_ fucking thing--you--you put up with so much--and I--fucking hell,” Louis groaned loudly, his brain unable to keep up with what he wanted to say. 

He dropped his hand from Harry’s chin, wrapping it around his own bent knee instead, his body still turned awkwardly towards Harry. He was breathing heavily from his rant, his thoughts racing at top speed through his head because _he hadn’t been ready for this._ If he had known they were going to have this conversation, he could have prepared himself for it--he could have figured out exactly what he wanted to say. He had thought about this moment for the past eight years and somehow everything he had ever wanted to tell Harry had slipped from his mind. 

They sat quietly for a while and Louis couldn’t stop the burning of tears around his eyes, but he kept blinking them away, kept willing his heart to keep beating, at least until they got to the end of this conversation.

If Harry Styles deserved anything, it was for Louis to survive until they got through this and finished saying everything they had needed to say to each other since 2013. 

“I must have picked up the phone to call you, like, a thousand times that morning,” Louis whispered, Harry looking over at him. “After you left, I--I just kept pulling up your contact and staring at it. I’d start writing these texts, begging you to--just. I don’t know. Fuck, I even _booked a flight_ to LA,” Louis said, chuckling darkly at how ridiculous he was. 

“I never went to LA,” Harry said quietly, looking back down at his lap. 

Louis blinked at him, at where Harry was pointedly not looking at Louis. “What?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“I went to the airport and I got the next flight to LA.” He sniffled, bringing his hands up to rub at his nose. “Went to my gate and everything, and then they started boarding and I just”--he shrugged--”never got on.” 

“So… what did you do instead?” Louis asked, still staring intently at the side of Harry’s face. Harry finally turned to look at him again, looking at Louis with sad eyes and a deep frown on his face and--Louis almost regretted asking if it made Harry look this way. 

“I just… went upstairs to the airport hotel and”--he shrugged--”got a room.” 

“You… were in Seattle?” 

“I told you I was a fucking coward,” Harry said darkly, his voice cracking at the end despite himself. Louis rubbed at his temples, processing the information that Harry had just told him, his whole take on that weekend somehow seeming different now. He knew it didn’t change anything, if Harry was in LA or Seattle or back in fucking London, it didn’t change the fact _they weren’t together,_ but it still caught him off guard. 

If Past Louis had known that Past Harry was _so close,_ Jesus. 

“I just--sat in that room until I had to leave for the next show and--just--I was--” Harry sighed, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get his words out. He shrugged, looking down at his hands as he wrung them together, shaking his head in a way that showed how disgusted he was by himself. Louis’ heart sank deeper in his chest, not knowing how to handle seeing Harry like this. He had never seen his dark day from an outsider's perspective. Seeing Harry have dark day made Louis want to curl up right here on the dock and cry. “I was… the worst version of myself that weekend, Lou. Nobody needed to see it.” 

Louis’ stomach hurt; the back of his throat was on fire and the longer he thought about Harry’s words, and Harry torturing himself in some shitty airport hotel, the more Louis wanted to reach out and just--hug him. Take his pain away. Louis had only thought about his own pain from that weekend for the past eight years, and now suddenly hearing Harry’s side was just--overwhelming. Louis readjusted his bent leg so that it was laying flat on the dock, his other leg still dangling off the edge, his body facing Harry even though Harry was avoiding Louis’ gaze by looking down at the water instead. 

Louis sighed quietly, looking down at the dock. He picked at one of the splinters coming off of the old wood, the silence between them seeming to stretch on forever, his mind coming up with horrible images of Harry in that airport hotel--crying, and _alone._ Louis couldn’t help but blame himself, the same way he had blamed himself for the past eight years, because he should have been stronger for Harry. 

He should never have let their relationship get to the point where Harry _had_ to walk away. 

“It’s weird that we never, like… talked about it,” Harry said, finally breaking the silence between them. “You know? Like, I remember seeing you in San Jose at the arena and--we both just… looked at each other, but we didn’t say anything.” And yeah, Louis definitely remembered that. He remembered seeing Harry and aching to reach out and touch, kind of like he felt right now, but already knowing that it had been over. “But we never said the words, you know? We never said… let’s break up.” 

“Yeah,” Louis agreed quietly, because they had literally never talked about it. After San Jose and after Seattle, they slowly became the versions of themselves that they had been for the last eight years--until Harry showed up in Chance, at least. They had never said they were broken up, they just--stopped. Everything stopped. They stopped looking at each other, they stopped acknowledging the other, but they had never sat down and clarified what Seattle had meant. 

Probably because they were both cowards, but Louis liked to believe it was because of the creepy bond they had--where they didn’t always have to speak, they just knew things. They never had to put a name on it because they both knew what it was; they both knew it was over. Believing their creepy bond was the reason they never spoke about Seattle, in some twisted way, had comforted Louis over the last eight years. 

Eventually the other lads had put two and two together and stopped asking them all to hang out together, trying to help Louis and Harry distance themselves from each other, trying to ease the pain that had suddenly ripped through their little group. They’d split up on their nights off, never hanging out with the same crowd.

If Louis was clubbing with Zayn--Liam and Niall would have dinner with Harry. 

If Louis was having a movie night with Niall--Zayn and Liam would take Harry to a bar that didn’t check IDs. 

That was how they had slowly stopped existing to each other entirely. 

They’d see each other on stage, for interviews, for One Direction specific events, and that was that.

_But they had never discussed it._

Harry had moved his things out of their shared house without ever asking Louis if that was what he wanted, if that was okay, or even mentioning it in passing, like, _Hey, Lou, FYI - my stuff will be gone by the 22nd._

They just stopped talking entirely. 

And when Louis finally returned home back then, after the Take Me Home tour and all their promo were finished, he returned to a house that had been picked through by Harry, leaving behind only Louis’ things or shared items that they had bought together. 

Not that Louis wanted any of those mutual items, either.

That was why they all sat in an unoccupied house in London and he lived in bloody _North Carolina._

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing the memories out of his mind, his eyes flicking back up to Harry. “I should have said something,” he whispered, watching as Harry turned to look at him with a frown. “I should have at least, like, _acknowledged it.”_

“Me too,” Harry agreed, nodding slightly. He shifted on the dock so that he was facing Louis, his knees bumping into Louis’ shin that was still resting on the dock. 

Louis took a deep breath in through his nose. “I should have said a lot of things, actually,” Louis continued. “But, you know how I was back then. I was… immature? And not good at talking about things that mattered.” Not that he excelled at it now, but at least he could try. Back then he couldn’t. 

Harry shook his head. “No, Lou, you were fine. It was my fault.” 

“Jesus, Harold, can you just let me be sorry?” Louis laughed quietly, his smile weak even as Harry chuckled darkly as well. “I’ve spent the last eight years of my life regretting everything that happened. Not just Seattle… but everything that led up to it. All the months before when we, like. I knew we were fading? But I didn’t say anything to stop it. I just--I don’t know. I just assumed we’d make it through somehow.” Louis sighed, scrubbing his hands over his cheeks. “That just goes to show how fuckin’ immature I was, because that’s not how relationships work, ya know?” 

Louis met Harry’s eyes again, wishing he had something better to say. He wished he could make the last eight years disappear, if he was being honest, but he knew that wasn’t possible and this was the reality they were forced to face. 

“I’ve regretted it, too,” Harry said, his legs crossed and his hands picking at a loose thread on his beanie that still laid between them. “I’m not sure how we got there.” Harry looked up at him and Louis could do nothing but nod. “I know it’s been a long time, I just. I don’t remember how I went from never wanting to spend a moment apart, to-- _sneaking out_ and never coming back. Fuck. I’m _so_ sorry, Lou. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

Louis felt his eyes burning again, his hands twitching to reach out and touch. “It’s not your fault, Harry.” 

“It _is_ my fault.” 

Louis sighed. “No, it’s not. It’s--I don’t know. I blame myself for, like, all of it, or--most of it, at least. I drove you away,” he said, his voice cracking and Harry’s eyes never looking away. “You were the one who left in Seattle, Harry, but--you didn’t get there alone. You didn’t just wake up in the middle of the night and think, _Man, I fuckin’ hate this Louis guy!”_

Louis laughed. Harry didn’t. 

Louis sighed, biting down on the inside of his cheek before continuing. “I knew it was coming. I knew it was happening; that’s why I begged you to stay that night.” 

Finally, that got Harry talking again. “And I was such a fucking _prick_ the whole time.” 

“You were angry,” Louis said quietly. “I mean, yeah, that night--it still hurts, I’m not gonna lie to you,” Louis continued, hating the way that Harry’s face scrunched up and he looked back down, bringing his hands up to run through his still-matted hair. “But I can’t blame it all on you, love. I had just as much part of getting us to that point as you did. Maybe even more.” Louis sighed quietly, looking down at Harry’s hands, which were still fussing with his beanie, and it wasn’t until he replayed it over in his mind that he realized he had called Harry _love._

He could feel Harry’s eyes on him, so he forced himself to look back up. Harry was staring at him with such a sad expression that Louis wanted to roll right off the dock and into the lake. Maybe even drown a little in the process. Louis’ eyes burned again and he blinked a few times to make sure the tears weren’t going to fall, but, of course Harry knew and of course that only caused Harry to frown harder. 

Harry parted his lips to say something, then hesitated before finally he whispered, “You know I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you, right? Like, you _know_ that’s not true, don’t you? Because--fuck, Louis, I loved you so fucking much.” 

“I know that,” Louis assured, and he hadn’t even realized a tear had snuck past his eyelid until Harry’s thumb gently wiped it away, his hands quickly dropping back down to his lap afterwards. Louis squeezed his eyes shut to ward off any more (traitorous) tears--his body was so fucking annoying--then looked back at Harry before finishing his sentence. “I _do,_ Harry, I… know you loved me.” 

“I didn’t say it back that night,” Harry said, his voice squeaky and high-pitched, his face scrunching back up. 

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t love me,” Louis whispered, and--he never thought he’d be in a situation where _he_ was comforting _Harry_ about that night. Because no matter how rationally Louis could think about that night now (and realize that Harry not saying _I love you_ back was just because Harry was pissed off and hurt, not because his love for Louis suddenly disappeared), he had spent many nights torturing himself about it. So for him to be sitting here, comforting Harry about it--was almost funny. 

If he could see humor right now, at least, he’d think it was funny. 

Maybe one day when he looked back on this, it would be funny. 

But for now, it just broke Louis’ heart. 

Harry cleared his throat. “I loved you so much that--like--I didn’t know how to deal with it. It was…” 

“Overwhelming?” Louis offered, Harry nodding right away.

“Exactly. It was completely overwhelming. And I was so _stupid_ and insecure about it, even though we--we were like... “ 

“Forever?” Louis piped up, looking down at the discarded beanie now, too ashamed to look at Harry’s face. 

“Yeah…” Harry said, and Louis could almost hear him gulp. “I was just so childish about it and, like, when Eleanor came along. God. I just don’t even know what I was thinking. I knew nothing was going on with you guys, but you just--you were so good at faking it that I guess”--Louis could see him shrug out of the corner of his eye--”even I believed it.” 

“Harry,” Louis huffed, looking up at him. “Not once did anything happen for real with El.” 

“I _know_ that,” Harry said, his tone pleading. 

“Besides, she was a _girl_ for Christ’s sake. Girl parts are weird,” Louis said, huffing out a tiny laugh before shaking his head. “And we weren’t good at faking it. That’s why everything went to shit. Because I sucked at even _pretending_ to love anybody but you,” he said, his words getting softer towards the end. “Nobody believed us. Maybe if they had, things wouldn’t have been so…” Louis couldn’t figure out how to finish his sentence, so he just stopped, looking away from Harry and back down to the dock. 

Louis watched as Harry’s fingers reached forward, hesitantly tapping Louis’ knee cap and then resting there. Louis blinked down at them, at where they were barely touching, his heart beating faster regardless. 

He looked up at Harry, watching as he said, “Don’t take this wrong way… because I know we’re just”--he gestured between their two bodies with his other hand, as if to say _Just friends_ \--”but… I’ve missed you so much.” 

Louis smiled sadly at Harry, his knee burning from where Harry’s fingertips still laid. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said, trying to swallow all of his emotions down afterwards. Harry’s fingers slid further onto Louis’ knee, all his fingers now placed gently across Louis’ heated skin. Louis blinked back down at them, feeling like he couldn’t breathe. 

_“So_ much,” Harry whispered, finally grasping Louis’ knee with his whole hand. Louis let the breath out that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, all of his body’s tension seeming to go with it, like Harry’s touch had been what his body needed all along. He looked up at Harry just in time for him to say, “I didn’t just lose a boyfriend that day, you know? I lost all of you and--you were my best mate. You were my other half. You were my… everything. And it’s like, I’ve just been walking around all these years… empty. Because I left _everything_ back in Seattle.” 

And--Louis had never heard it worded before. 

He had been feeling the same way since they broke up, but it was so hard to vocalize. Even when he had tried to explain it to Niall, or when he was crying about it to one of the other lads, it was hard to put into words how broken everything had been, because a part of him had died. A _big_ part of him had died. 

Every good part, at least. 

Louis breathed in deeply through his nose before finally letting his hand rest on top of Harry’s, blinking up at him and revelling in the feeling of being able to touch him, even if it was in such a basic way. Louis didn’t know what to say, still didn’t know how to vocalize everything he knew Harry needed to hear, but he hoped that Harry would somehow just _know._

Louis squeezed Harry’s hand, then finally said, “I’m really glad you’re here.” 

A sigh of relief left Harry’s lungs, his eyes momentarily closing before looking back at Louis. Harry turned his hand over in his so that he could lace their fingers together, which was an awkward position considering they were sitting across from each other, but Louis didn’t care, just squeezed his fingers around Harry’s and smiled. 

“I am, too,” Harry whispered, smiling softly at Louis. “I thought I had dreamt the whole thing up. That first night I saw you at the Piggly Wiggly, I mean. I didn’t see you for so long afterwards I was just, like, _convinced_ I had made it up.” 

“Niall probably thought I was making it up, too,” Louis laughed quietly, rubbing his thumb along the top of Harry’s hand. Harry squeezed his hand once, causing him to look up and meet his eyes, only to find Harry grinning so hard his dimples had appeared. Louis furrowed his eyebrows at him. “What?” 

“Did you freak out?” 

Louis barked out a laugh. “Excuse me?” 

“You were freaking out, weren’t you?” 

“Nahhhh, I was completely calm. I was, like, the definition of calm. Calm, cool and collected, mate, that was me.” 

“You were pissing yourself,” Harry said flatly, causing Louis to laugh loudly again. Louis shook his head, looking down at their joined hands and smiling at them, amazed at how this night was turning out for once. 

“And what about you then?” Louis asked, looking back up. “Were _you_ freaking out?” 

Harry slowly grinned, shaking his head softly. “No.” 

Louis glared. “Liar.” 

Harry laughed, his expression turning back to soft afterwards as he shook his head. “Nah, I wasn’t freaking out. I was…” he paused, thinking it over and looking into Louis’ eyes. “Well, we’re being honest here, right?” he asked. Louis immediately nodded his head and squeezed Harry’s hand encouragingly. “I was really happy.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Louis said immediately, huffing as he rolled his eyes, an amused grin across his features. 

“It’s true!” 

“There’s no way you were _happy_ about it. At least not originally.” 

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you, then, because that’s what happened.” 

Louis took a deep breath in through his nose, considering what Harry had just said, his eyebrows furrowed as they travelled up and down Harry’s form. Those stupid tiny shorts Harry was in seemed to have creeped up his thigh even more, the entirety of his long legs on display in their criss-crossed position and--Louis definitely had to look away. 

He looked back up at Harry, staring at his face for a long moment before asking, “Why?” 

Harry smiled at him and then, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, he said, “Because you’re the love of my life.” 

“Harry!” Louis said, panic rising in his chest, the back of his throat feeling as though it was slowly constricting around his windpipe. “You can’t just say that!” Harry smiled more softly at Louis, cupping his other hand around Louis’ so that he was holding both of his small hands in his huge ones--which, was totally not helping the situation. 

“Don’t freak out,” Harry said quietly, squeezing his hands, still smiling at Louis. “I know you’re freaking out. I thought we were being honest with each other?” 

“We are!” Louis said, his tone frantic. “But you can’t just--”

“So I was just being honest,” Harry said easily, smiling as he shrugged one shoulder. “You can take it any way you want, Lou. I’m not asking for anything. I just wanted you to know, that, like”--he shrugged again--”you said earlier that you knew I loved you, but, it was never… Past Harry.” He smirked at Louis, at their most recent inside joke, even though _Louis was definitely not breathing and didn’t have time for fucking jokes!_ “No version of Harry--past, present, or future--has ever stopped loving you. _Could_ ever stop loving you. It’s just a fact.” 

Louis just stared at him, fear obvious in his expression, his jaw wide open. 

“Seriously, mate, _stop freaking out._ Nothing has changed between us. I’m just stating facts here,” Harry said, _but how was that possible?_ How did that not change anything? Why was Harry still holding Louis’ hand? Why hadn’t Louis’ heart given out completely yet? Why did Louis have so many questions? “I promise. I’m not expecting you to say anything back, okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis said dumbly, because--really--what else could he say? 

“Cool,” Harry said with a nod, letting go of Louis’ hands. Louis stared down at his hands, _his hands that had just been in Harry’s,_ trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened. 

“Cool,” Louis found himself repeating, even though _it wasn’t cool?!?!?!?!?!?_

“So, it’s like, really late,” Harry said, laughing quietly. “And it’s gonna take me at least forty minutes to run back home from here, so I should probably get going,” he said, unfolding his legs and pushing himself up into a standing position. Louis just blinked up at him, trying to remember how to function and--right, he was supposed to say something now. 

Louis swallowed, pushing himself up as well so that he was standing in front of Harry. “I could, um, give you a ride? If you want?” 

Harry seemed to consider it. “It’s late. I don’t want to put you out.” 

Louis couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Harold. I’m not gonna make you run all the way back home when me and my Rove are just down the street,” Louis said, his heart slowly returning to a normal pace. He would definitely be over-analyzing everything that had happened later, but right now he needed to focus. “Unless… it will throw off your run schedule,” he said, his cheeky tone finally returning as he grinned up at Harry. 

Harry glared. _“Not cool, bro.”_

Louis laughed, shaking his head, thinking about how _uncool_ Harry’s tiny little shorts were. How dare he think he can just blurt out that Louis was still the love of his life _while practically wearing nothing_ down south. Really, who the hell did he think he was?

“Okay. I guess you can drive me,” Harry said, his tone mocking, but his smile was soft when Louis finally looked back over. Louis laughed quietly, shaking his head, and he turned to head down the dock. Before he could go anywhere though, Harry’s hand reached out and grabbed Louis’ arm, pulling him into a hug faster than Louis could understand what was happening. 

Louis breathed in deeply, his arms coming up around Harry’s waist, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he inhaled the smell of everything… Harry. They stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other, wrapped up in finally coming to terms with the last eight years. Harry slowly pulled back, smiling down at Louis before stepping back completely and nodding for Louis to go first. 

Louis swallowed the lump in the back of his throat before turning and heading towards the end of the dock, willing his heart rate to fall back to a normal level. They walked in silence for a few minutes after that, the humid air heavy with everything they had talked about, all the touches they had shared between them, and it was so quiet that Louis startled a bit when Harry finally spoke up. 

“So, can I ask you a question?” 

“I guess you’ve earned it,” Louis said, grinning over at Harry. 

“Does this mean I’m allowed back at Keith’s?”

_Fucking Harry Styles._  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! _Heavy_ , right?! 
> 
> Hi everybody! I'm so curious as to what you guys thought of this! I know it took seven (loooong) chapters to finally get the back-story on what happened between them, but what can I say? I'm mean that way. I hope this answered some of your questions andddddd can we just take a second to AIOSJFOAISJFO over their whole conversation? Harry freaking Styles is just. Idk, man. There are no words for Harry Styles.
> 
> I hope everyone had an amazing weekend! I had a great time down here in the sticks and got to see so many family members that I hadn't seen in over a decade. I even (illegally trespassed) to go see the farm my grandmother grew up on. I'm wild. Don't break the law, kids. Wear your seatbelt. Apply sunscreen. Drink lots of water, and all that. (I'm a good influence, I promise.) What did you all get up to? If you're anything like me, you've been drooling over Dunkirk premier pictures and staying away from Game of Thrones spoilers.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the beautiful comments! You guys have turned a great weekend into an _amazing_ one, just from all the lovely things you had to say. You're my favorite. 
> 
> See you Friday! 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	8. Part Eight

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/a9ff7dae268a2569a9b37a13d903c4a0/tumblr_inline_otft4qWjle1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
Louis didn’t end up seeing Harry again for almost a week. It wasn’t deliberate; they were both just busy. A friend Harry wrote with was in town for a few days, and Harry had offered on multiple occasions for the three of them to hang out or have dinner, but Louis politely declined each time. He had his soccer coaching, and Reggie, and _he totally wasn’t avoiding Harry after his love confession or anything._

But when Harry texted him that night, almost a full week after their dark day(s), Louis was disappointed to tell him that he couldn’t hang out, because he truly did miss him. He had a week to stew over their talk and everything that Harry had told him; he had over-analyzed the situation on three different occasions with Niall and had lost count of the times he’d done it alone. So after six days, Louis was definitely ready to see him again.

**It’s 25 cent wing night at Buffalo Wild Wings. You game?** 
_Wish I could mate !!!! but I’m sick :(_ 
**Oh :( What’s wrong?** 
_Idk but it’s AWFUL. I think it’s the flu. i’m pretty sure i’m dying !_ 
**Oh no! That’s too bad. I’m sorry you’re sick! Drink lots of fluids. (And please don’t die.)** 


And, right. That was it, then.

Louis would just drink a lot of fluids and _totally not be in love with Harry Styles_ or anything.

Cool.

Easy. 

Great instructions--he’d get right the fuck on that. 

Louis sighed loudly to himself again, locking his phone and tossing it to the other side of the bed, curling up on his side in his pathetic state. 

Reggie was curled up at the end of the bed (because Louis was _sick_ and needed to cuddle _somebody,_ dog hair be damned), and Louis found himself numbly staring at the blinking telly across the room, wishing that he wasn’t so sick so he could have had dinner with Harry. But considering he had spent the last few days cocooned in a pile of snotty tissues and empty water bottles, it was probably best he didn’t see anybody. 

Louis continued to pout long after that while he watched a couple more episodes of the mindless American reality show he had been watching all day. He wasn’t really paying attention by that point, but he wasn’t feeling tired enough to fall back asleep. He had been sleeping the past few days away, but no matter how sick he was, eventually his body just refused to sleep anymore. 

His stupid traitorous body. 

When he heard somebody knock on his door then, two hours after his last human interaction, he didn’t even consider getting up. If he wasn’t well enough to hang out with Harry, he definitely wasn’t well enough to deal with whoever was at his door. He loved his neighbors and he loved pretty much everybody who lived in Chance, but _he was sick._

He had the right to be anti-social and pouty.

At the sound of the door, Reggie quickly scurried off the bed and darted into the living room, probably standing a safe distance away and just peering at the door because-- _he was the least threatening dog of all time._ Louis heard him give off a few breathy huffs, but heard no other attempts to guard the house from any potential danger. 

His dog _really_ sucked at being a dog. 

Louis rolled over onto his side, tucking his head into the crook of his arm in his go-to comfort position and unattractively snuffled his drippy nose. He listened to the quiet sounds of the television as he shut his eyes, willing whoever was on his front porch to just give up and go away. If it was important, they’d leave a note that he’d eventually find. (It was the year 2021 and yet everybody in Chance still thought it was best to leave a note on his door _instead of just texting him what the fuck._ He really loved his town--but that didn’t stop him from wondering why they all seemed to live in the past.)

A minute or so passed by, Louis’ stuffed up nose making a quiet whistling noise in the room, before Louis startled a bit when his phone vibrated from the other side of the bed. He sniffled again, reaching his hand out and blindly patting the bed until he came in contact with the phone. He blinked his eyes at the screen, his heart stuttering once in his chest like it always did when he saw it was Harry.

**Are you sleeping?** 
_no what’s up_ 
**Knock knock** 


Louis rolled his eyes, smiling fondly as he typed out his response, humoring Harry.

_who’s there ??_ 


Louis hit send, watching his phone with heavy lidded eyes as he waited for whatever horrible joke Harry was about to tell him. He was caught off-guard when the text screen faded to black and then turned into _Harry Calling…_ oh. Okay. Louis cleared his throat, then slid the answer bar over and set the phone against his ear. 

“Didja really have to call to tell me a knock knock joke?” he chuckled, sniffling again and bringing his blanket up to wipe at his nose. He was aware of how disgusting he had become, but he also lived alone, so nobody would ever know it happened. That was between him and his blanket. Besides, the box of tissues was way over on the other side of the bed and he’d have to, like, _roll over_ to grab them. That was an unacceptable option. 

“You sound awful,” Harry replied, his tone sounding sympathetic.

“Thanks. Did you call just to insult me or were you gonna finish your joke?” Louis asked dryly. 

Harry chuckled quietly. “No, it wasn’t a knock knock joke. I meant it as in, _knock knock,”_ Harry said, his last words in a sing-song voice and then--the sound of knocking on his front door happened again. Reggie barked once from somewhere in the living room and Louis’ eyes widened a bit at the realization. 

“Harold.” Louis paused. “Are you at my house?” 

“Yes.” 

Louis coughed again, bringing the phone away from his ear as did so, his loud, mucous-filled coughs seeming to echo in the quiet house. “Go away. I’m sick. I’ll get you sick,” Louis said, once the phone was pressed against his ear again. 

Harry continued on, seemingly unfazed by Louis’ protests. “I brought you soup.” 

Louis paused, considering. “...What kind of soup?” 

“Chicken noodle.” 

“...Is it homemade?” 

Harry breathed out a chuckle. “Of course. That’s why it took me so long--I had to run down to the _Pig Wig_ to get the noodles while the stock was simmering.” Louis bit down on his lip at Harry’s usage of Pig Wig, proud that he was already converting Harry, but--wait. 

“You left your house with the stove on?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s against Fire Safety 101, mate. What would Smokey the Bear think?” 

“I was only gone for fifteen minutes.” 

“A lot could happen in fifteen minutes! What if your whole house had burned down? I hope you have some sort of”--Louis paused, scrunched up his nose and then finally sneezed--”renter’s insurance or summat.” 

Louis couldn’t see it, but he knew Harry was rolling his eyes.

But, really, Harry could roll his eyes all he wanted, _because Louis was right._ He should have a conversation with Anne about why she never taught Harry about fire safety. Finally Harry’s voice shook him of his thoughts when he said, “Do you want the soup or not?” 

“...There’s a key underneath the blue planter”--Louis coughed loudly--”on the back porch.” Louis listened to Harry’s footsteps through the phone as he made his way around to the backyard, biting his lip as he heard the ceramic planter tip to one side and then the key going into the lock. Reggie’s nails slid on the wood floor as he presumably changed positions so he could see the back door (from a safe distance, of course. What a baby). 

“I’m in!” Harry chimed happily, then disconnected the call. Louis let a long breath out of his lungs before he locked his phone and set it on the bed next to him, quickly muting the TV so that he could listen as Harry puttered around his living room. Louis couldn’t help the smile that spread across his features as he heard Harry quietly talking to Reggie. _“Hello, Reginald, you’re looking extra gorgeous today,”_ he said, his words muffled from the distance, but Louis could still hear them. _“Shake my hand, please.”_

Louis snorted, but it ended up hurting his throat and he went into another coughing fit. He was truly pathetic right now. Louis forced himself to sit up, resting against the headboard as he pulled the blanket up higher across his chest. He continued to listen as Harry spoke to Reggie, complimenting him on his (totally not Harry-induced) shaking. Finally, Harry called out, “Lou?” 

“I’m back ‘ere,” he said, his voice scratchy from all his coughing. He really needed tea. 

Louis fixed his eyes on the doorway, listening as Harry’s boots clicked gently against the floor before he finally appeared around the corner, instantly frowning at Louis. “You look horrible!” 

“Geez, way to make a lad feel good about himself.”

“No, I didn’t mean--”

“First you tell me my voice sounds bad, now you tell me I _look_ bad, why don’t you just kick me right in the balls?” 

Harry laughed, bringing his hand up to muffle the loud sound, and Louis couldn’t help but smirk at him. “I just meant you look really poorly! Have you gone to see a doctor? Are you taking any medicine?” Louis rolled his eyes. Harry had always gone into mother hen mode whenever he, or any of the other lads, got sick. It was comforting to know that he hadn’t changed after all these years. Louis watched in horror as Harry bent down and started grabbing up the dirty laundry that was spread across the room. 

“Harry! Don’t do that!” 

“Why? You’ll never do it,” Harry laughed, looking up and grinning at Louis before standing and making his way to the laundry basket in the corner of the room to toss the clothes into. “We _did_ live together at one point, remember? I know how much of a slob you are.” 

Louis narrowed his eyes. “How very dare you.” 

Harry laughed again, leaning against the dresser and crossing his arms over his chest. Louis let his eyes travel across the black-and-white striped silk shirt Harry was wearing, down to his tight jeans and his fancy ankle boots. Louis didn’t understand what Harry’s fashion sense was anymore; some days he showed up looking like he had just stepped off the runway, like today, but other days he’d show up way more casual and looking like he belonged in Chance. It made Louis’ brain hurt when he tried to keep up. 

“I thought you brought soup,” Louis said, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting, snuffling loudly and eyeing the tissue box that was precariously close to the edge of the bed. 

“I did,” Harry said, and then as if reading Louis’ mind he stepped closer to the bed and handed Louis the box of tissues. 

“Thanks,” Louis said, his voice extra nasally and overall unattractive. Louis would be embarrassed that Harry was seeing him this way, but he _had_ lived with Harry for three years, so Harry had seen him in much worse condition. And he also really wanted that soup. “Well, where is it then?” 

“Hmm?” Harry hummed, his eyes snapping up from watching Louis fumble with the tissues. “Where’s what?” 

Louis rolled his eyes again, unable to stop it. “The _soup_ , you twat.” 

“Oh!” Harry said, then gave off an embarrassed laugh. “Right. The soup. It’s, um, in the kitchen? I didn’t know if you wanted it back here, or…?” 

“I’ll come out to the living room,” Louis said, because they probably, _definitely_ , shouldn’t be hanging out in his bedroom. Just a thought. He watched as Harry nodded, but then didn’t make any indication he was leaving. Louis blinked at him a few times, then looked down to the duvet, then back up to Harry. “I’m, uh, not wearing any pants…” he trailed off, pointing down at the blanket. 

“Oh! Right! Sorry!” Harry said, shaking his head and looking flustered as he stood up straight. He pointed a thumb over his shoulder before saying, “I’ll just, um, go heat up your--soup. You get… dressed. Okay. Right. Good plan.” Louis bit down on his smirk, loving how flustered he had gotten Harry just by mentioning that he wasn’t wearing any bottoms. If Louis weren’t on his way to an early grave due to the flu, his cock might have gotten interested at that. 

Harry quickly turned and left the room, his boots clicking down the hallway and Reggie’s nails echoing as he scurried to follow Harry into the kitchen. Louis chuckled to himself, finally flipping the blanket off of him and then grabbing up a pair of discarded trackies and pulling them on. Louis made his way down the hallway after that, shuffling his socked feet along the floor, his box of tissues pinned underneath his arm as he headed straight for the couch. 

If Harry was in the mood to spoil Louis, he would gladly let him. He had always gotten extra clingy and pathetic when he was sick, and nowadays--even four years after her passing--he still got a tiny bit depressed, because normally he would have called his mum and demand she take care of him. But he couldn’t do that anymore. So, really, he was kind of glad for the distraction. 

“Do you want bread to go with it? Or crackers?” Harry asked from the kitchen, just as Louis sank down onto his favorite spot on the couch. He curled his legs up, scooting down further and setting his box of tissues next to him. 

“I don’t have any bread. Or crackers.” 

He couldn’t see Harry’s face, but he could practically hear him roll his eyes. “No kidding. I brought them with me.” 

“What kind of bread is it?” Louis asked. He sniffled and grabbed the remote so he could catch the rest of his show. 

“Crunchy bread.” Well, that was specific. 

“Can you make it into a bread bowl?” Louis asked, biting back his grin, knowing his request was ridiculous. Just because he was sick didn’t mean he still couldn’t be an annoying shit to Harry. 

“I cannot,” Harry replied dryly, still moving around his kitchen. 

“Very disappointing, Harold,” Louis tsked. “What would the Barefoot Contessa do? WW...BFCD?” 

Harry laughed loudly, looking over his shoulder at Louis and grinning at him, his eyes lighting up. “She’d say something like, _Oh, you don’t have any hollow bread that was kneaded together by virgin nuns, using whole wheat flour imported directly from Sicily? I guess store-bought will do.”_ Louis let his head fall back against the couch cushion as he laughed loudly. 

Harry Styles was ridiculous _and he loved him._

“See! Even you know she’s a douche!” Louis said, pointedly ignoring how much he fucking loved Harry. 

“She’s not a douche!” Harry laughed loudly, turning back towards the cabinet and grabbing a bowl for Louis’ soup. “She just likes fine ingredients.” 

Louis faux-coughed, _“Douche,”_ but it quickly turned into a real cough, and, right. Maybe he shouldn’t provoke his traitorous body. Harry chuckled along with him and Louis had to look away from where he was preparing his soup and focus his eyes back on the telly. He turned the volume up a few bars, intending to zone back in on the show, but he couldn’t help his wandering eyes as they strayed back over to Harry. He was standing at the island ladling soup into the bowl, pausing after every scoop to look down at Reggie--who was, of course, hovering around because _food_ \--and whisper something to him that Louis couldn’t hear. 

Damn it, Louis loved him. 

“Do you want tea?” Harry asked, finally addressing Louis again. Louis quickly looked back to the TV, hoping Harry hadn’t realized how hard he had been staring at him, and cleared his throat before responding that he most definitely wanted tea. “I figured,” Harry chuckled, “water’s already on.” 

Maybe if Harry Styles weren’t so perfect, Louis wouldn’t be so helplessly in love with him. 

A few minutes went by in comfortable silence before Harry made his way into the living room, Reggie hot on his heels, and carefully handed Louis the bowl of steaming soup. He set a small plate down on the couch cushion next to Louis with a few slices of bread.

“You’re so wonderful,” Louis said, his tone joking but his words sincere. Louis hoped Harry wouldn't notice, but of course he did. Harry blushed, sheepishly handing Louis a spoon before muttering something about going back for his tea. Louis sat up straight, criss-crossing his legs and setting the bowl down in the crook of them, taking a deep inhale of the steam coming off of the bowl. “Fuck, this smells so good.” 

“I hope it is,” Harry called from the kitchen, Louis not waiting for Harry to come back before digging into the soup and _fuck_ , it was just as good as he remembered. Harry used to make this for Louis every time he was poorly, even if they were in some stupid hotel room or on the bus, he’d somehow find a way to prepare it for Louis. It usually cost them way more than it should have, Harry having to bribe the kitchen staff for some stove time, but it was always worth it because the soup was just _so comforting._ Fuck. 

“I want to take a bath in this,” Louis said when Harry finally returned to the living room, setting Louis’ steaming mug of tea down on the coffee table. Louis noted that Harry hadn’t made one for himself and wondered if that meant he was leaving right away. 

“You’d probably burn yourself if you did,” Harry said, smirking at Louis. 

“No, I’d eat it all before it had a chance to burn me,” Louis reasoned, smirking back at Harry before taking another slurping bite. “So fucking good.” 

“Good.” Harry beamed at him. “I’m glad it turned out okay. I had to rush the stock a bit.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “You sound more and more like the Contessa every day.” 

Harry happily shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Ina is my hero.” 

Louis snorted into his soup, shaking his head as he took another bite and watched as Harry crouched down to give Reggie a good ear scratch. Louis was secretly hoping Harry was going to stay, even though he knew he _shouldn’t_ because-- _germs._ But Louis was a selfish prick who had missed Harry and wanted to spend time with him, even if he was germy and snotty and ran the risk of getting Harry equally as sick. But instead of asking Harry if he was leaving--or, more importantly, if he would stay--Louis just took another bite, his reality show now long forgotten as he watched Harry instead. 

He was in the middle of cooing at Reggie-- _“Such a good boy, yes you are, such floppy little ears!”_ \--who was basking in the praise and shaking his entire bum due to the force of his tail-wagging. Louis smiled fondly, carefully balancing his bowl in his crossed legs so he could rip off a piece of bread. Reggie had definitely taken a liking to Harry, which was obvious in the way that he completely ignored Louis-- _who was eating_ \--in favor of preening at Harry. Any other time, Reggie would have parked his fat bum on the floor right in front of Louis and whined at the bowl of soup. 

Harry glanced over at Louis, and he could feel his eyes burning into him as he dipped the bread into the broth and held it there. “Well, I guess I’ll get out of your hair now,” Harry said, standing up from his crouching position and dusting off his jeans. 

_Don’t go._

Louis looked up at him, not able to help the frown that spread across his mouth. _Please don’t go._ “Okay.” 

“Unless… you want some company?” 

Louis tried desperately not to just nod his head eagerly and pat the couch next to him for Harry to sit down. He had to put Harry’s health above his clinginess. He could hang out with him once he was _well._ Yes. That’s exactly what he would do. “I’d love some,” Louis said instead, smiling sheepishly at Harry. Oh--that wasn’t what was supposed to come out. “I don’t want to get you sick, though…” 

“Ehh”--Harry shrugged him off--”I have a killer immune system.” 

“No you don’t,” Louis said around a laugh, watching as Harry removed his boots, one foot after another, then neatly placed them by the door before sitting down on the other end of Louis’ couch. “You used to get sick _every single time_ one of us did back when we were on tour,” Louis pointed out, actually pointing his spoon at Harry before he remembered that was for eating and, yes, he needed another bite. 

“Details, details,” Harry dismissed easily.

Louis wiggled around trying to balance his bowl while reaching for his tea, his fingertips just shy of being able to reach the rim. Harry wordlessly leaned forward, grabbed the steaming mug and handed it to Louis. Damn his freakishly long arms. “Thanks,” Louis mumbled, leaning back into the couch cushions and taking a sip of the tea. “Fuck, that’s good too,” Louis said, taking another too-hot sip.

He looked over at Harry and considered his next sentence before finally clearing his throat and saying, “You know, you’re still the only other person that can make me a proper cuppa.” Harry beamed, always loving the praise. “Seriously,” Louis continued, just to see Harry keep smiling at him that way. “Everyone else makes a shit cup, but you’ve always made mine perfect.” 

“Well, that wasn’t always the case,” Harry said cheekily. “I specifically remember you _forcing me_ to learn how to prepare tea just the way you liked it…” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it.” Because--right. They were definitely naked during that lesson. Fuck. Louis needed to change the subject. He set his mug down on the floor in front of the couch (so he could actually reach it, even with his limited wingspan), before focusing back in on his soup.

Harry cleared his throat, clearing sensing the change in the room as well, before leaning back into the couch and blinking over at the telly. “What the hell are you watching?” he finally asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the TV. 

And--right. Small talk. Louis could small talk the _shit_ out of somebody. 

Louis looked at the TV before grinning over at Harry. “Lizard Lick Towing.” 

Harry blinked at him. “Excuse me?” 

Louis laughed, setting his bowl back down in the crook of his legs so he could explain the show properly. “It’s _amazing._ It follows around this guy Ron who repos people’s cars? And like, he has this partner--that guy”--Louis pointed to the TV--”his name is Bobby, and Bobby is basically Ron’s _bitch._ They always get into these sketchy situations trying to get the car they’re repossessing and Ron _always_ makes Bobby go off and do the dangerous part while he just waits behind. Then he runs in at the last second to get all the glory. Oh--and they have this catchphrase that’s like, you’ve just been _licked!”_ Louis laughed, gesturing his hands for emphasis. 

Harry was just staring at him, a blank expression across his features as he tried to process all the information Louis had just given him. Louis smiled brightly at Harry, picking back up his bowl of soup and taking another slurping bite of noodles.

“You’re… serious?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, dead serious, my friend,” Louis said, grinning at Harry. “Jus’ watch, it’s addicting. These people are crazy.” 

That was how they found themselves watching two more episodes of Lizard Lick Towing. Louis’ empty soup bowl was long forgotten on the table, the two of them happily munching on the leftover bread while commentating over the show. They had both decided they were Team Bobby (or Team _Bitch_ , as they dubbed it), because Ron was a self-absorbed asshole who would rather fight with his wife then have Bobby’s back. 

“Poor Bobby,” Harry was saying. “Do you think he’s married? Does he go home and tell his wife all about how abusive Ron was towards him that day?” 

“I don’t think so. I think he’s married to the job. Or secretly married to Ron.” 

“He’s gonna end up getting himself killed!” Harry exclaimed with worried eyes.

_Louis loved him._

Louis laughed loudly. “Agreed!” 

“Where even are they? Like, Alabama or something?” 

“Oh, _mate,”_ Louis laughed, whipping his head over to look at Harry again. “That’s the best part. They’re an hour down the road from here!” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. This is in _North Carolina?!”_

“Yes!” Louis exclaimed, cackling loudly. 

“But it looks so different!” Harry said, his jaw dropped. “Everybody looks like…” 

“Swamp People?” Louis supplied. 

“Yes! Exactly!” Harry laughed, bringing his hand up to cover his smiling face. 

“I don’t know, man. There’s some weird places around here.” Louis mused, settling back into the couch after their heated discussion. Louis watched as Harry shoved himself up from the couch and his heart instantly dropped. _Please don’t go yet._ Louis definitely knew he was being selfish now, since Harry had already stuck around for over an hour, but Louis never claimed to be anything other than pathetic. 

Louis watched silently as Harry picked up the empty soup bowl and gathered up the utensils and bread plate before heading off to the kitchen. Louis coughed into his shoulder, then continued to cough once his body remembered how sick he was. Maybe it was time for bed again. Louis heard the sink turn on and frowned over at the kitchen. “Jus’ leave ‘em in the sink, Harry.” 

“Nah, I’ve got it,” Harry called back. Louis loved him so fucking much, _shit._ He needed to get control over himself. Louis went into another coughing fit after that, whimpering quietly to himself afterwards because of how much his throat burned. He nuzzled deeper into the couch, snuffling every few minutes while he listened to the dishes gently clinking together in the sink as Harry washed them. Louis let his heavy eyes close, telling himself that he’d only keep them closed til Harry was done washing dishes. 

He must have fallen asleep though at some point, because the next thing he knew, Harry was gently touching his shoulder to wake him. “Hmm?” Louis hummed, blinking his eyes open, instantly meeting Harry’s green ones, which were very close to his face. Louis’s heart stuttered in his chest. 

“I made you another tea,” Harry said, his tone quiet, pointing over to the coffee table. “I’m gonna get going.” 

Louis slowly nodded, sitting up a bit. “Please tell me you didn’t do _all_ the dishes…” Harry just smiled brightly at him in lieu of an answer. Louis fondly rolled his eyes. “‘Arold, you’re spoiling me. Also--you could have just loaded them into the dishwasher…” 

“You know I hate dishwashers,” Harry said, sitting back on his haunches from his spot on the floor. “I like doing dishes by hand. The old-fashioned way.” 

“You’re nutters,” Louis said, his voice still scratchy from sleep and flu. “I’ll walk you out,” Louis said, making to get up, but Harry quickly stopped him. 

“Nonsense. You rest. And, besides, the door is r _ight there_ , I think I can manage,” he said, pointing to the front door that was only a few feet away. Louis smiled softly at him as he eased back down onto the couch. 

“If you insist.” 

“I do,” Harry said around a grin. 

“Thank you for the soup.” 

“You’re welcome,” Harry whispered. 

“And for the tea.” 

“You’re welcome,” Harry repeated, this time chuckling quietly. 

“And for coming over.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, but his tone was soft when he said, _“You’re welcome, Louis.”_

“And… for getting me a bottle of water before you leave…” Louis trailed off, smiling innocently at Harry, because--again, if Harry was keen on spoiling Louis, he would definitely let him. Harry chuckled quietly, pushing himself up off the floor and heading back into the kitchen, Louis watching him as he went. 

Harry opened the fridge and then gasped so loudly that Louis couldn’t help but laugh. _“Louis!_ You have no food!” 

Louis laughed again, which turned into another mini coughing fit. “Haven’t exactly felt like shopping, mate,” he said, once he finally caught his breath. From his spot on the couch, he could still see Harry’s broad back as he bent over to examine the contents (or lack thereof) of Louis’ fridge. 

“What have you been eating?!” Harry exclaimed, grabbing one of the water bottles and then shutting the fridge. He turned expectantly towards Louis, his hands on his hips. 

“Umm…” Louis trailed off, avoiding Harry’s pressing eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. “Cocoa puffs?” he said sheepishly, still avoiding Harry’s eyes as he looked around the room. Even Reggie had turned his back on him and was facing the wall snoozing. “But,” Louis continued, “I ran out of those this morning. So it’s a good thing you brought me soup, eh?” 

_“Louis!”_ Harry scolded, stomping back into the living room with the bottle of water held tightly in his fist. “No wonder you’re sick! You’re not eating properly!” 

“You gonna try and get me off the unrefined sugar next?” Louis asked sarcastically. “Because you can’t take away a man’s cocoa puffs, Harry. It’s just not right.”

“Don’t be a shit.” Harry glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. Louis was glad they could finally go back to joking about Harry’s douchiness without Harry _actually feeling like a douche_ about it. 

Louis laughed. “Harry, I just haven’t been to the store because I’ve been sick. I don’t _only_ live off of cocoa puffs,” Louis said. “I eat… real stuff, too.” 

“Like what?” 

“Um…” Louis trailed off, deciding he needed to change the subject quickly. “Hey, is that water for me?” 

“Oh, yeah, here you go,” Harry said, stepping forward to hand Louis the cold water bottle. 

“Mmm, water,” Louis hummed, happily twisting the cap off and smiling brightly at Harry before taking an exaggerated sip. Harry shook his head, smiling despite the fact Louis was very obviously trying to change the subject away from his poor eating habits. “Refreshing,” Louis said, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before twisting the cap back on the bottle. 

Harry sighed. “You’re hopeless.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Louis startled awake early the next morning, shooting straight up in bed at the sound of his back door opening in the quiet house and _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._ Louis’ heart pounded in his chest as he quickly looked around for a weapon and _why wasn’t he more sporty?!_ Shouldn’t everybody keep a baseball bat by their bed or something?! Louis threw the blankets off himself, ready to go defend his house and his honor, but before he could do so, Harry’s quiet voice made it to Louis’ ears. 

_“Good morning, Reginald. That’s a mighty fine looking bone you’re chewin’ on there--oh, thank you, just what I’ve always wanted. Shake my hand, please.”_

Louis instantly fell back on his bed, his hand coming up to his racing heart as he tried to calm his body down. What the fuck was Harry doing in his house? Louis was relieved he didn’t have to try to fight--because, honestly, that wouldn’t have gone well for him--but that didn’t answer his question as to _what the actual fuck_ Harry was doing in his house. He listened as Harry continued to quietly speak to Reggie, his voice so low that it was barely audible in Louis’ bedroom. 

_“See, like this, good shake. Such a good boy, learning so well.”_

Louis couldn’t help but roll his eyes because he knew that Harry had picked Reggie’s paw up and placed it in his own hand. If it were up to Reggie, there would be no shaking going on. Louis listened to Harry’s footsteps, purposely quiet as if he assumed Louis was sleeping and didn’t want to wake him up, but Louis’ expression turned confused when he didn’t see Harry come around the corner. He listened intently as the front door opened and then Harry’s footsteps disappeared. 

“What the fuck,” Louis mumbled quietly to himself, blinking up at the ceiling as his pulse finally came back down to a normal rate. A few moments of silence passed by, Reggie’s nails clicking against the floor being the only sound in the house, before Louis finally heard Harry’s footsteps return. He listened as Harry walked around, a rustling noise happening along with him, and _seriously what the fuck was he doing?_

He heard Harry’s quiet voice speak up again when he asked Reggie, _“Do you need a wee?”_

Louis quietly snorted into his hands, listening to the squeak of the back screen door open and then Reggie’s paws scurrying before the door shut with a quiet thud. Louis finally sat back up in bed, leaning far over to try and peer into the hallway, but he couldn’t see anything. He could hear Harry rustling around the kitchen area, and that finally had Louis up and out of bed, his curiosity getting the best of him. 

Louis crept down the hall, still dressed in the trackies and white shirt from the night before, his socked feet silent against the floor. He was sure he looked a mess, his greasy hair probably sticking in every direction, but Harry had also shown up unannounced-- _like always_ \--so this was as good as it was going to get. Louis peered around the corner of the living room and stared at Harry’s back, as Harry was currently standing in front of Louis’ open fridge and--”What’re you doing?” 

Harry jumped, dropping whatever he had been holding onto the ground, whirling around and bringing his hand up to his chest. “Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Louis! You scared the hell out of me!” 

“ _I_ scared the hell out of _you?!”_ Louis gawked. _“What are you doing in my house, Harold?!”_ Louis peeked over at the clock on his stove, the bright green numbers showing him just how fucking early it was. “At half six in the morning?!” 

“I thought you’d still be sleeping!” 

“So you broke into my house?!” Louis asked around a frantic laugh, throwing his hands up in the air. 

Harry looked down sheepishly, mumbling quietly, “I brought you groceries.” And-- _what?_ Louis stepped closer so he could properly see into the kitchen and. Right. There were plastic Pig Wig bags spread out over the island, half unloaded and _what the actual fuck._

“You… brought me groceries.” 

Harry nodded. 

“At six _bloody_ thirty in the morning?” he asked, blinking rapidly at Harry, who was avoiding his eyes. Louis took in Harry’s appearance for the first time, noting that he was dressed in those tiny fucking running shorts again, an old band tank spread across his chest and that fucking American flag bandana was wrapped around his forehead again. “Did you _run_ to the Pig Wig?!” Louis asked him suspiciously. 

That finally had Harry laughing. “What? No! My truck is out front.” Louis just blinked at him and Harry finally looked down at his attire. “Oh. I--was running this morning when I thought about getting your groceries. I, um, forgot to change before I went. Sorry. I stink.” Louis rolled his eyes, because he wasn’t sure if Harry even _sweated_ anymore, let alone smelled because of it. 

He also tried to not get distracted by Harry’s exposed biceps. 

As if Harry just now remembered the fridge was still wide open behind him, he turned and bent over-- _Jesus Christ those shorts were so tiny_ \--to pick up the container of strawberries he had dropped on the floor before setting them in the fridge. Louis coughed loudly into his shoulder, his lungs finally catching up with him. When he looked back over at Harry, he was frowning at him.“You should really see a doctor; that cough doesn’t sound good at all.” Louis simply waved him off, coming around into the kitchen and peering into one of the open grocery bags. 

“What the hell inspired you to go grocery shopping for me?” Louis asked, chuckling quietly as he picked through the bag's contents. His eyes lit up when he spotted the box of cocoa puffs and he quickly went about opening the top. 

“You’re sick,” Harry said easily, shrugging slightly. “You shouldn’t have to go grocery shopping.” 

“Well, in that case,” Louis said, hopping up onto the counter and digging his hand inside the cereal box. He popped a few pieces into his mouth and chewed them before grinning at Harry and finally finishing his sentence. “I’m usually feeling a bit sneezy ‘round this time of year. Maybe you should always do the shopping?” 

“I should have known this was a bad idea,” Harry joked, reaching into the cabinet behind him and removing a bowl before sliding it towards Louis. He wordlessly reached into one of the plastic bags and removed the carton of milk before sliding that towards Louis as well. Louis wanted to kiss him. Louis watched as he stepped over to the silverware drawer and plucked out a spoon, looking so comfortable in _Louis’_ kitchen and knowing exactly which drawer and cabinet he needed. 

It kind of made Louis’ head hurt. 

That didn’t stop him from happily accepting the spoon and pouring himself a proper bowl of puffs, though. 

As Louis munched on his cereal, Harry continued to unload the bags of groceries, Louis’ eyes lighting up at every delicious item Harry removed. “I didn’t know what you normally ate? _Since you purposely changed the subject like a prat last night,_ so I just had to guess on a lot of it. I got some things I knew you liked and some things that I thought would be nice, like this,” he said, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out-- 

“A whole chicken?” Louis asked, furrowing his eyebrows at Harry. “What in the bloody hell am I supposed to do with _a whole chicken?”_

“Lots of things!” Harry beamed. “You could cook the breast up in a pan and serve it with rice, or you could slow-bake the thighs and put them on a bun for a nice sandwich? Or--” 

“Harold,” Louis cut him off. Harry quickly shut his mouth and looked over at Louis. “Do you think I’ve somehow learned to cook over the last however many years?” 

“Um…” Harry trailed off, a grin staring to break out across his mouth. “I kind of hoped you had…” 

“Well. I didn’t,” Louis said easily, laughing to himself as he took another bite of cereal. “A whole chicken. Honestly.” 

“Well… okay. That’s why I also got _these,”_ Harry recovered quickly, his dimples popping as he snatched up a bag of frozen chicken nuggets (in the shape of dinosaurs, no less) and held them up proudly for Louis to see. 

“Dino nuggets! Get in!” Louis cheered, fist pumping the air with his spoon held high. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” 

Harry beamed, opening the freezer and setting the chicken nuggets inside. “Oh, and also, there was this really nice old lady working the front register, I think we talked to her on the 4th?” 

“Mrs. B,” Louis provided, setting his empty bowl down next to him and contemplating whether he wanted seconds. Maybe he’d wait for Harry to leave so he wouldn’t think he was a complete fat arse now. Harry had probably already run thirty miles this morning. 

“Yes! That’s her. She sent you these,” Harry said, holding up a produce bag of oranges. “Vitamin C, and all that. Oh, and also she insisted I get the strawberries because they were fresh. So those are in the fridge.” 

Louis laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ Mrs. B.” Harry smiled, unloading the next few bags as Louis heckled him from the counter. “What the fuck is that?” 

“Tarragon.” 

“And what in the _hell_ am I supposed to do with it?” 

“I thought it’d go nice with the chicken...”

“You mean _the whole chicken_ that’s going to go to waste?” 

“That’d be the one.” 

Harry opened the last bag and removed two bottles of cold medicine, one being of the day variety and the other for knocking him out at night. Louis took the two bottles happily, grinning down at the orange and green liquids, before finally looking back up at Harry. “You’re a real lifesaver, ya know that, curly?” Louis asked, still grinning at him. 

Harry smiled bashfully, leaning back against the island, only about a foot of space between the two of them. Louis swallowed, wanting to reach out and touch but knowing he shouldn’t. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Louis said, setting the bottles of medicine down on the counter next to him. 

“It was no trouble,” Harry said earnestly, blinking back up at Louis. 

“Bollocks,” Louis laughed. “You went _grocery shopping_ and then tried to sneak them into my house. That would definitely qualify as trouble. What was your big plan there, anyway? Were you gonna just leave them and let me think the grocery fairy had dropped by?” 

Harry grinned, biting down on his bottom lip--which, really, _was not fair at all._ “Something like that.” 

“I woulda known it was you,” Louis said, grinning back at him. 

“How?” 

“You bought _herbs.”_

Harry laughed loudly, his head dropping back on his shoulders as his squawked laughter echoed around the kitchen. Louis watched with glee as he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, always embarrassed at how loud his laughter could be.

Louis really wanted to kiss him. 

He wouldn’t, of course, for many reasons.

  1. He was sick.
  2. … 



He was sure there were other reasons why kissing Harry would be a bad idea. 

Those reasons would totally come to him soon. 

Right. 

In the meantime, he just smiled softly at Harry, reaching forward before he could stop himself and tugging on the bandana that was wrapped around his head, causing it to drop around Harry’s neck. Louis grinned at Harry and at his wonky hair that had a bandana impression on it. 

“You little shit,” Harry laughed, running his hands through his hair. He pulled the bandana back over his head and dropped it on the counter next to him, shaking out his hair before finally giving up and looking helplessly at Louis. 

Louis just laughed. “Perfect,” he said, sarcasm dripping in his tone. Harry glared at him. Louis chuckled again, reaching forward and grabbing the bandana with the tips of his fingers before sitting back straight, flipping the fabric over in his hands a few times. “I can’t get over how short your hair is,” Louis said, because it was something he still thought about every time he saw Harry. 

Harry hummed a response but didn’t actually say anything, his eyes fixed on where Louis was still flipping the bandana back and forth in his hands. “The fans used to love when you wore this one,” Louis said, his tone quiet, hoping that Harry would ignore what Louis was actually saying. _I used to love it._ Harry hummed again, crossing his arms over his chest, Louis’ eyes flicking up when he did so. 

_God, he was beautiful._

“All your head scarves, actually. Drove all the girls mad,” Louis pressed on, grinning at Harry as he met his eyes again. Harry laughed, running his fingers through his short hair again. Louis continued, “Bet they all mourned their loss when you finally cut the curls for good.” 

“I think that’s why I never grew it back out,” Harry said, looking down at the floor. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because everyone made such a big deal out of it,” Harry said with a shrug. Louis frowned down at his lap, not knowing how to take his explanation, but thankfully Harry pressed on in his slow voice. “Like… remember how management used to be about our images?” Louis hummed out an acknowledgement. “Once all that was over and I could do whatever I wanted, I guess I just decided that--I don’t know. I didn’t want to grow my hair back out and let those Modest! guys think they’d, like, won somehow. That they were right all along.” 

“I thought _you_ liked your long hair, though?” Louis asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to meet Harry’s eyes again. 

Harry seemed to consider that for a moment, before finally shrugging. “I liked that it made the fans happy.” 

“But _you_ didn’t like it?” 

“I did at first. You know that,” Harry said, his eyes never leaving Louis’ because _he did know that._ Louis had been the one to first suggest the scarves during Harry’s awkward phase when his hair was in between lengths, Harry determined to let it grow. “I liked that _you_ liked it long,” Harry finally said, and--yeah. That definitely took Louis’ breath away. It hadn’t made sense before, what Harry was saying, but Louis knew he had finally gotten there and said what he had wanted to all along. 

And now it made sense why Harry had never grown it back. Not when Louis wasn’t there to appreciate it. 

“Oh,” Louis said, looking back down at the scarf in his hand. 

Louis looked up at Harry, at how close they were standing, thinking about how he wanted to reach out and touch Harry, just ‘cause. They looked at each other for a long time, Louis not knowing what to say and Harry seemingly content with just staring, but finally Reggie _woof_ ed from the back porch, breaking both of them from their thoughts. 

Right. Time hadn’t stopped. 

Harry wordlessly pushed off the island and made his way to the back door, Louis watching his reflection in the oven as he went, Harry asking Reggie, _“Did you have a good wee? Did you do some sunbathing?”_ as the two of them made their way back into the kitchen. Louis reached behind him for the jar of dog snacks, sliding it across the counter and nodding at Harry. 

“I usually give ‘im one of these when he comes back inside.” 

“No wonder why he’s so pudgy,” Harry teased, smirking with his dimples on display at Louis. 

“Fuck you.” Louis glared. “He’s perfect. And, besides, he came that way. Was the fattest, oldest bastard in the shelter, remember?” 

Harry frowned, not seeming to like discussing Reggie’s earlier years--and really, Louis wasn’t very keen on it, either--but he refused to take blame for Reggie’s weight issues. Louis watched with amusement as Harry considered it for a second, then popped the lid of the jar and grabbed one of the bone-shaped treats for Reggie. 

“Can you sit?” Harry asked him, holding the treat up and waving it around. “Hmm? Can you sit?” 

“He cannot.” Louis laughed, causing Harry to glare at him over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna train your dog, Lou, if it’s the last thing I do!”  
  


***

  


Harry ended up staying for most of the day, though he had insisted on taking a shower even though Louis was still unconvinced the man had sweat glands, and they spent most of the day lazing around watching horrible American television before finally popping in the next Batman movie in their series. Louis had dosed up on the cold medicine Harry had brought him and he wasn’t totally convinced it was doing anything, but every time Harry asked if he was feeling any better, Louis would smile and lie to say he was.

He didn’t want Harry to feel bad, after all. 

So if he tried to keep his coughs at bay and stop himself from sneezing just to go along with his lie, so what? Louis’ body was a traitor anyway and it didn’t deserve to be treated fairly. They ate lunch while watching the movie, continuing on with their made up plot from last time (that Liam wouldn’t even _hear_ of when Louis tried to explain it to him), and when Harry fed his crusts to Reggie, Louis pretended he didn’t see it. 

He did make a mental note to save that bit for a rainy day, though; especially if Harry ever tried to blame Louis for Reggie’s weight issues. He’d definitely bring it up then. But for now, Louis enjoyed his day with Harry, even though he still felt like dying and it was exhausting to have to pretend like he wasn’t. So when mid-afternoon came around and Harry mentioned that he should probably get going, Louis didn’t protest too much. 

He was in dire need of a nap, anyway.

“Thanks again for everything,” Louis said, holding the front door open after Harry had stepped out onto the porch. 

Harry smiled at him. “No problem.” 

“Even if you did do a little bit of B&E to accomplish it…” Louis chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Harry.

Harry blushed, looking down at his shoes. “Right. Sorry about that. I won’t use that key again--I shouldn’t have used it in the first place.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “I’m just takin’ the piss, Harold. It’s fine.” 

“I should have asked before I did it. I don’t want you to think that I--erm--think I have any right to just barge in here.” 

“You _do_ have the right,” Louis said, shaking his head, still smiling at Harry. “We’re… friends. Niall would have used the key without asking for it _or_ apologizing afterwards. You can, you know, feel free to do the same. _Especially_ if it’s to do my shopping for me,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry, whose expression finally turned back to amused as he laughed at Louis. 

“Okay,” Harry said, smiling at Louis. “About the key thing, I mean. Not about the shopping--you’re clearly _using_ me on that front. This was a one time deal, pal.” 

“Sure it was, _pal,”_ Louis said, winking at him. “Goodbye, Harry!” 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Bye, Lou.” Louis watched as he turned and headed off the porch, back towards his _completely ridiculous_ truck that Louis would never be over. Louis shut the door, gathering up their paper plates they had eaten their lunch off of and taking them over to the rubbish bin. Louis heard Harry’s truck start, the loud idling noise seeming to shake the house for a moment before he finally drove off. 

Louis flipped the overhead lights off in the kitchen, about to turn down the hall and head for bed when he noticed the bandana still sitting on the kitchen counter from where he had been messing with it earlier. He smiled fondly at it, picking it up and staring at it for a few moments before finally heading back towards his bedroom. He hung the bandana over one of his bed posts, the fabric still tied in a knot from where it had been tied around Harry’s head, and Louis may or may not have stared at it while he drifted off to sleep.  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we all just take a minute to bask in how fucking adorable and attentive Harry is? Jesus Christ. We all need a Harry Styles in our lives. 
> 
> Hi everybody! Happy Back To You/Dunkirk day! I am off now to have a super stressful weekend. Not only do I have to find the time to see Dunkirk AND listen to Louis on repeat 24 hours a day (HIS FUCKING VOICE!!!!!!!!!!!), but I have to go apartment hunting. My current lease is going to run out in a month and if I don't get my shit together and actually go find a place, I'll be all kinds of homeless. Which is not my aesthetic. At all. SO LIKE, WISH ME LUCK ON THAT. (But let's be honest, the real stress is coming from the fact I HAVE TO FIND TIME TO SEE DUNKRIK IN IMAX AND LISTEN TO LOUIS _GODDAMN_ TOMLINSON.)
> 
> Anyway... 
> 
> I am so excited for you guys to read the next chapter! It is a whopping _26k_... and I'm not sorry about it at all. I didn't even consider breaking it up into smaller chapters for a second. Your comments on the last chapter made me squeal multiple times and I just love you all so much. Thank you thank you thank you to those of you who took time to comment or kudo! I'll never get used to it! 
> 
> On a more serious note... I am completely devastated over the loss of Chester Bennington yesterday, as I grew up listening to Linkin Park on repeat. This one hit me real close to home... their music got me through all of my angsty teenage years and they gave me something to hold on to when I thought my entire world was ending. Mental health is no joke guys. If any of you are suffering, please know that I am here for every single one of you! We may not know each other or speak at all, but please know you can always reach out to me and I will talk to you and be there for you! Stay safe, lovely ones! <3 Tell the people you love how you feel about them. You never know if it'll be your last chance. 
> 
> I love you all to the moon and back!
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	9. Part Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** anxiety attack

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/1ac4d502a7b52bd2d8754a0b4aa01934/tumblr_inline_otle3eI3q81ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
At the end of the following week, when Louis was finally well and no longer feeling like he had come down with the plague, he found himself sitting on his back porch with Harry. It was still early in the morning, hardly past nine, and Louis really needed to cuss Harry out for how he’d changed Louis’ whole routine around.

Louis had been just fine staying up late into the evening and waking up in the afternoon, but Harry had always been an early riser and he kept showing up early in the morning. Suddenly Louis found himself waking up earlier rather than later, regardless of whether he had plans with Harry or not, and that was just not on. It was going to ruin Louis’ reputation! What would Reggie think? WWRT?!

Regardless, the two of them sat on Louis’ back porch early Friday morning, Reggie lying on his back in the sunny grass while the two of them sat on the stairs in the shade. They both held styrofoam cups from Keith’s, sipping on them quietly as they listened to the morning bird calls of Chance. Louis had informed Harry, rather sternly, that if he was going to continue to show up at the “Ass crack of dawn!”, _he better come bearing tea._

Thankfully for everybody involved, Harry had always been a fast learner. 

So when he showed up that morning, holding two styrofoam cups (tea for Louis, coffee for Harry--because he was the worst Englishman alive), Louis had praised him loudly before beckoning him inside and out of the heat. Which _could_ have been a solid plan for the whole day--a nice air-conditioned house--but somehow they had ended up following Reggie out back and into the current positions they were in. 

Louis watched over the brim of his cup as Harry took a sip of his coffee. “You’re turning into an American,” Louis stated, nodding at Harry’s coffee with a look of disgust. 

Instead of responding like a normal person, though, Harry spread his arms out wide and proudly sang out the opening line to the Star Spangled Banner in an overly theatrical voice. “Oooooh say can you see!” Louis rolled his eyes (fondly, despite his wishes), hoping that Harry wasn’t about to sing the anthem in its entirety. To his relief, Harry stopped after just the first line and then smiled brightly at Louis as he took a long, slurping sip of his coffee. “Yum.” 

“What would the queen think?” 

“She’d probably think, _Wow, I’m so glad Harry drinks whatever makes him happy and doesn’t just stick to the stereotype that all Brits only drink tea!”_ Harry said with a roll of his eyes, though the corner of his lip turned up in a smirk. 

Louis blinked at him. “I’m sorry, what the hell was that voice you just did?” 

Harry grinned. “That was the queen, obviously. Keep up.” 

Louis barked out a laugh. “You’re something else.” That only seemed to make Harry smile brighter and Louis had to look away before his heart fluttered right out of his chest. He looked over to the yard, smiling fondly at where Reggie was sprawled out, all four legs up in the air shamelessly. “Fuck, it’s hot,” Louis said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Why the hell are we sitting out here?” 

“Because it’s beautiful outside.” 

“No, it’s _hot,”_ Louis corrected, pinching his shirt away from his chest and fanning it out. He glanced back over at Harry and found him smirking still. 

“Maybe I should have gotten us _iced_ coffee and _iced_ tea,” he said, a knowing grin on his face. 

Louis narrowed his eyes at him. “Sacrilege,” he said, pointing a disapproving finger at Harry. “Iced tea is sacrilege!” 

“Such big words from such a tiny thing like you,” Harry beamed, his laughter already spilling out at the end of his sentence. 

Louis glared harder. “You’re fucking _dead,_ Styles,” he said, calmly setting down his tea before lunging at Harry. He knocked Harry flat on his back from the force, Harry laughing loudly as he fell backwards, Louis playfully punching at his ribs while Harry cackled and his whole body shook with it. “Take it back!” Louis was exclaiming. “Take it back, you--you _giant!_ You-- _gangly giant!”_

“Okay, okay, okay! I surrender!” Harry finally said, laughing loudly as Louis sat up proudly, smiling brightly down at Harry. It was only then that he realized that he was straddling Harry and-- _fuck. Abort, abort, abort!_ Louis quickly rolled off of him, crawling back to his previous position by the banister, his heart hammering in his chest. 

Louis pulled his knees up to his chest, grinning over at Harry, and couldn’t help but stop and think about how crazy it was that two months ago they were nothing to each other, and now they were play fighting? And hanging out every day? And Harry was able to just show up with coffee and tea for them and _nobody questioned it?_ Because they were just-- _they were there?!_

Louis had been going through a lot lately with his thoughts, accepting things he never thought he would, coming to terms with how he felt about Harry, but… every once in a while he still got caught up in a moment like this where he just couldn’t believe _this was his life!_ He was once a famous boybander selling out stadiums and winning all kinds of awards, yet _this_ was the part of his life he couldn’t believe. 

This was what was all too good to be true. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Harry asked, breaking him from his thoughts. He glanced back over again at Harry and smiled, though knew he should probably lie about what he had actually been thinking about. 

“About how iced tea is sacrilege,” he said around a grin, causing Harry to dramatically roll his eyes and groan loudly. “Tea should never be served iced! Tea should _always_ be served hot!” 

“And revenge should always be served cold, _blah, blah, blah,”_ Harry finished for him. 

Louis loved him. 

“Exactly,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing proudly. “Took the words right out of me mouth.” 

“I’m surprised they even let you live in the South. You know everyone around here drinks sweet tea by the gallon,” Harry laughed, tipping his cup towards Louis in a cheers motion. 

“I’d rather go thirsty than drink their sweet tea,” Louis replied flatly. 

Harry cackled. “It’s not that bad!” 

“You’ve tried it?!” Louis squawked. 

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I like to blend. What can I say?” 

“They’re not even gonna let you cross the border next time you go home, mate. You’ve shamed our country one too many times now.” 

Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “You know how you and Ni’ were saying I was a douche about my healthy stuff? _You’re_ a douche about tea,” Harry said, giggling afterwards. 

Louis narrowed his eyes. “ _How very dare you._ I am not a douche.” 

“You kinda are,” Harry said, smiling with all his teeth on display. 

Fuck, Louis loved him so fucking much. 

“I hate you,” Louis lied, turning his head away from Harry in a huff. 

Harry laughed loudly, then he sang out, “No you don’t!” at the side of Louis’ head--where he was pointedly avoiding Harry-- and _fuck._ He was _so_ fucking screwed. He couldn’t help but grin over at him, even though he had just called him a douche. Louis then steeled his expression, crossed his arms in another huff and pretended to be angry at Harry. 

But one more glance over at him had Louis grinning all over again because Harry was just-- _fucking adorable,_ okay? 

They grinned at each other for a few moments before Louis let his arms drop back down to his side, frowning down at where they had collected sweat just from crossing them for a few seconds. “Ew, _why is it so hot out here?”_ Louis groaned, thumping the back of his head on the post behind him, just as one of the cicada bugs really got going. Their loud bug screeches seemed to echo through the entire neighborhood. 

“It is pretty awful,” Harry laughed. “I mean, it’s _beautiful_ , but… it’s a bit hot.” 

“A bit hot? Harry, it’s like--Satan’s Workshop out here,” Louis groaned, which caused Harry to burst out laughing again, Louis’ lip twitching with the satisfaction of being able to make Harry squawk-laugh . “I wish I had a pool; why didn’t I buy a house with a pool?” Louis continued, raising his head back up and glaring at Harry as if it were his fault. 

“Big mistake, that,” Harry chuckled, crossing one long leg over the other. He had pivoted on the porch so his legs were extended out towards Louis, and Louis _definitely wasn’t staring_ at the long expanse of his legs or anything. Nope. That’d be creepy. Louis thinks he should also insist that Harry wear _floor length trousers_ every time they were together, because these tiny shorts he’s been showing up in were going to slowly drive Louis out of his mind. 

Harry was dressed casually today, in light wash denim shorts and a loose tee. Louis supposed it wasn’t a Model Harry day today. He also wondered what factors went into Harry choosing whether he was going to be Model Harry with his tits out, or casual Chance Harry who blended. Maybe eventually he’d get up the courage to just ask him, but if he thought about Harry’s nipples for too long he’d probably start sweating through his shirt again. 

Louis looked up from Harry’s calves, realizing that he had been staring for too long, and shook himself from his nipple-thoughts before he finally asked, “Does your cabin have a pool?” 

“Nope,” Harry said regretfully. 

“Ugh, Harold, what were you thinking?” 

“At least I didn’t buy a place without a pool like _some_ knob I know,” Harry said, grinning over at Louis, and Louis hated him a little bit. He also loved him _a lot._ Fuck. “I could switch rentals any time I wanted.” 

“Right. Because Chance is just full of mansions for rent.” 

“Heeeyy,” Harry pouted. “It’s not a mansion! It’s a tiny little thing.” 

Louis raised his eyebrow. “How tiny?” 

“Not even half the size as this place,” Harry said, and… for some reason that surprised Louis. Not that Chance _had_ a lot of mansions, but every time he had pictured Harry sitting in this infamous cabin of his, he always pictured it as a great log cabin hidden back in the woods. Floor to ceiling windows, huge open floor plan, marble countertops--the works. 

“Hmm. Interesting,” Louis finally said. 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “What did you expect? For me to go out and find the largest, most posh cabin Chance had to offer?” 

“Kind of.” Louis grinned, ducking out of the way of the balled up napkin Harry had thrown at him. 

“And what about you, huh?” Harry laughed, reaching forward to slap at Louis’ bare feet, which he quickly tucked underneath himself. “Why didn’t _you_ buy the mansion before I could even get to it?” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “The point was to _blend_ , Harold,” he said, using Harry’s own words against him. He paused for a moment before he continued. “Actually, I was hoping people wouldn’t know who I was at all.” 

Harry giggled quietly. “How long did that last?” 

“The first week. I was shopping at the Pig Wig and I ran into this fan in the cereal aisle. Ugh. She blew me cover so fast,” Louis groaned at the memory, though couldn’t help but smile at the way Harry tilted his head back and cackled. “Thankfully most of my neighbors didn’t find out who I was for a few months, though.” 

“Did you put on an American accent to try to fool them?” Harry giggled. 

Louis threw his head back and laughed. “No! You wanker!” 

They shared another round of laughter for a few moments after that. 

“Do you think there’ll ever be a day when we stopped getting recognized completely?” Harry asked, but Louis couldn’t tell what answer he was looking for. As jaded as Louis made himself out to be, he really didn’t mind being recognized anymore, especially because the moments were so few and far between. 

If he was still getting papped at the grocery store every day, he would definitely have a problem with it. But it was a rare day that a stranger waltzed into Chance, so he didn’t get the option to be recognized very often. 

Come to think of it, the last person to wander into Chance _was Harry._

Louis realized he hadn’t answered Harry’s question. “Um… I don’t know, mate. Not to toot our own horns or nothin’, but I think we might be pretty legendary.” 

Harry smiled softly at Louis. “Yeah.” 

“Do you hope we get to that point?” Louis asked, with no real judgement behind it. He’d understand if he did. Harry always seemed to get the worst of the press anyway. Sure, Louis had it pretty rough at some points, especially near the end of their career and into the first year of their hiatus-turned-retirement, but nobody ever had it as bad as Harry did. 

Harry seemed to consider Louis’ question for a while before finally answering. “I think it depends, for me.” 

“On what?”

“Like, how people react to certain… decisions I make over the rest of my life.” 

Louis eyed him, trying to piece together what that meant. He took a long sip of his cooling tea before setting the cup down gently on the stairs. He had a hunch about what Harry had meant, but he was hesitant to say it--to bring the subject up between the two of them because the topic was so taboo.

“You mean like…” Louis paused, then finally took a deep breath and thought _fuck it._ “If you came out? Publically, I mean.” Because Harry, even more so than Louis, had never hidden his sexuallity from any of his friends or family--but he also never came out to the world. 

Which took a while for Louis to wrap his head around, considering that Harry’s desire to come out had put such a strain on their relationship at times. But, Louis guessed, when the time finally came when he was free to do so, he no longer had a partner to come out _with._

“Yeah,” Harry said with a nod, staring intently at Louis and breaking him from his thoughts. “If they can’t, you know, accept the person that I’ve become or that I _do_ become, then… yeah. I hope we get to a point where everybody forgets who I am.” 

“No offense, mate, but I hope they don’t.” 

Harry glared at Louis, even though there was no real heat behind it. “Why?” 

“Because.” Louis shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his denim shorts and pointedly ignoring Harry's gaze. “Everybody should know how great you are.” Okay--Louis needed to lighten the fuck up. He had turned this banter into a serious conversation and now he was just spitting out feelings and--Jesus. What was he doing? He finally chanced a glance up at Harry and didn’t know if he should be relieved or not to find him smiling fondly at him. 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered. 

Louis willed his heart rate down. “Let’s go jump in the lake,” he said, avoiding Harry’s gaze again as he looked back out into the yard, at the still snoozing Reggie. He could see Harry looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, could feel his eyes burning into him, and Louis _knew._ He _knew_ that Harry was aware he had changed the subject on purpose--because Louis sucked at feelings--but thankfully Harry Styles was perfect and didn’t mention it. 

“Let’s go jump in the _ocean,”_ Harry countered, wiggling his eyebrows at Louis once he had whipped his head over to look at him.

“Harold,” Louis chuckled. “The ocean is, like, hours away.” 

“So?” Harry asked, shrugging one casual shoulder at Louis. “Got something better to do?” 

Louis blinked at him. “The lake is just down the street.” 

Harry paused, considering, before grinning brightly at Louis and repeating, _“So?”_

_“So,”_ Louis mocked, “why would we drive all the way to the ocean when we could just walk down the street and jump in the lake?” 

“Because I’ve already seen the lake today, and I jumped in that lake yesterday morning after my run to cool off. So, like, _been there, done that.”_

Louis laughed. “Okay, well, you’ve jumped in the ocean before too and that’s not stopping you from wanting to do it again,” he challenged, making what he thought was a very good argument. 

Harry, though, didn’t seem to be half as impressed. “Come onnn,” he whined. “I haven’t seen the ocean in years! _Years!”_

“Really?” Louis asked, biting back a smirk. “You mean to tell me that when you fly back home to London you don’t look out of the window once? Hmm? Didn’t see the ocean then?” 

“Why the hell do I hang out with you?” Harry groaned, dropping his head into his hands, causing Louis just to cackle. “Where’s your sense of adventure?!” Harry exclaimed, looking back up at Louis and furrowing his eyebrows at him. 

Louis squawked. “It’s right here, mate! I just-- _you really_ want to drive a couple hours just to see the ocean? And then drive _alllll_ the way back?” 

“Yup.” 

“But… like…” 

_“But like_ what?” Harry asked, a knowing smirk coming across his face because he was clearly winning this argument. Louis glared and watched as Harry wordlessly slipped his phone out of his pocket and started typing something into it. Louis huffed, staring down at his hands as a few moments of silence passed. “An hour and forty two minutes,” Harry finally said, catching Louis off-guard when he spoke again. 

“What?” 

“The ocean. It’s an hour and forty two minutes away. That’s _nothing.”_ And-- _oh._ That actually wasn’t as far as Louis thought. Maybe Louis should look at a map every once in a while. Interesting. “See!” Harry beamed, pointing at Louis and _damn it,_ his expression must have given him away. “I told you it wasn’t that far!” 

Louis watched as Reggie finally rolled over and up onto all fours, as if he knew there were decisions being made that would impact the rest of his day. Louis watched as the dog moseyed over to them, slowly climbing the steps and lying back down in the space between them. _“Let’s go to the ocean,”_ Harry repeated, after Louis hadn’t said anything. 

“Harry,” Louis laughed, not knowing what else to say. 

“We could be at the beach _by lunch,”_ he pointed out. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

“My truck is right out front,” Harry said, his grin so wide that his dimples looked like craters. 

And--right. 

That was how Louis found himself loading up Harry’s stupid, obnoxious truck with a cooler full of drinks and road snacks thirty minutes later. Louis tossed his backpack in the back seat, containing his swim trunks, a towel and a change of clothes for afterwards, the two of them agreeing to stop at Harry’s on their way out of town so he could grab his things. Louis shut the back door to the truck, leaning against it as he pulled his phone from his pocket. 

“You almost ready to go?” Harry asked, walking towards him. 

“Just a sec,” Louis responded. “I just have to find somebody to come let Reggie out later,” he said, scrolling through the contacts on his phone to figure out who would be the best person to ask. 

“Oh,” Harry said, and Louis could hear the frown in his voice before he even looked up at him. 

“What?” Louis said, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

“I thought we’d take him with us?” 

Louis laughed. “To the _beach?”_

“Yeah, why not?” And--huh. Interesting. 

“I… don’t know if he’s ever been to the beach,” Louis said slowly, a grin breaking out across his face. 

Harry pumped his fist in the air. “No time like the present to find out!” he said, turning to jog back up to the house. “I can’t believe you were going to leave him behind!” 

“Well _excuse me_ for thinking that carting around a dog all day might be a bit _difficult.”_

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, causing Louis to almost run directly into his back--but thankfully he stopped himself just in time. Louis took a step back, furrowing his eyebrows at Harry once he turned to face him, wondering why he had stopped so suddenly. “Reggie could never be difficult.” 

“Mate,” Louis laughed. “You don’t live with the beast. _I do._ He can most definitely be difficult. Haven’t you noticed he’s still not shaking your hand, no matter how many times you try? Oh, and you should see what he does to his bed every two weeks. Wait around a few more days and you’ll see it, actually. He’s due.” 

Harry paused, crossing his arms over his chest in thought. “What does he do to his bed?” 

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see.” 

That quickly brought a smile to Harry’s face, one that Louis couldn’t help but return. “Guess so,” Harry said, his tone quiet. They stood there for a few more moments, just smiling like idiots at each other, before Harry finally shook his head and said, “Right. Let’s gather this _beast_ up, yeah?” Louis laughed, ignoring the fact Harry was rudely mocking him, before brushing past him and heading back into the house.

Once Louis had packed Reggie a little day trip bag, including a ziplock baggie of food and a rawhide bone for a him to gnaw on, and Harry had grabbed a few extra water bottles for him, they finally locked up Louis’ house and the three of them loaded into the truck. Since Reggie had behaved like an nine-year-old dog _should_ the last time he had been in Harry’s truck, Louis didn’t feel the need to attach his leash to him this time. 

The old dog clearly wasn’t going to do any escaping at stop lights. 

Especially not since Reggie had realized Harry would be doing all the heavy lifting whenever he needed to get in or out of the truck. 

As if he hadn’t been spoiled enough before…

The drive to Harry’s cabin was short and done in comfortable silence. Louis opted to stay in the truck with Reggie, since the goal was to be as quick as possible so they could officially hit the road. It took Harry less than five minutes to run in and out, returning with a bag slung over his shoulder. It was just long enough for Louis to figure out how to sync his phone up to the bluetooth so he could pick their road trip music. 

He definitely wasn’t going to endure this entire ride listening to Harry’s hipster music. No thank you. 

They hit the open road after that, all of the windows down in the truck so the fresh air could whip through, and even though it was blazing hot outside--it felt wonderful. They blasted their music, laughing at different things with each other as Harry navigated down the winding two-lane highway that took them out of Chance. 

But only thirty minutes into the drive, with Louis’ bare feet perched happily on the dashboard, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Harry was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Louis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, asking, “What’s wrong? 

“Do you think he’s okay back there?” Harry asked, his eyes glued to the rearview mirror. Louis gave him a confused look, dropping his feet back down onto the floor so he could turn around and sneak a peek at the dog. Reggie was standing close to the cab of the truck, his head poking around the side, tongue flopped out the side of his mouth and his ears happily bouncing in the breeze. 

Louis snorted. “Yeah, mate, I think he’s fine.” 

“But he’d probably be more comfortable in here, wouldn’t he? It’s a long trip.” 

“I thought dogs loved trucks?” Louis laughed, using Harry’s own words against him. 

Harry glared over at him. “They do! But, this is a _two hour_ drive! And so far he’s just been… standing.” 

“He’s a big boy. He can handle it,” Louis finally said. “If _I’m_ not worried, you shouldn’t be. I’m the over-protective dad, remember?” That made Harry smile--but didn’t stop him from pulling the truck over five minutes later, quickly hopping out and making his way around to the back before Louis could protest. 

So instead of protesting, he just watched fondly in the mirror as Harry pulled the lift gate down, cooing at Reggie as the dog happily trotted over to him, none the wiser that he was about to receive the royal treatment for the rest of the day. Harry grabbed the dog up from under his belly and walked back around to the driver’s side. 

Through the opened window, Louis grinned at Harry and teased, “Bet you wish you had thought to open the door _before_ picking up his fat arse.” 

_“Do you mind?”_ Harry growled, his lip twitching as he tried not to smirk. Louis let his head fall back in laughter before unbuckling his seatbelt and crawling over the seat so he could open the back door for Harry--the dog still panting happily in his arms as if he lived to be carried. 

Maybe he _was_ a king. 

Once the door was shoved open, Louis easily climbed back into the front and clicked his seatbelt on again. 

Louis smiled fondly at the dog, who circled around the seat twice before sticking his head out of the open window. His tail whipped back and forth and hit Harry’s shoulder from his spot back behind the wheel. Once Harry was settled, he turned towards Louis and gave him a large, toothy grin. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Your truck is gonna be covered in dog hair, bro.” 

Harry shrugged, putting the car back into gear. “That’s what vacuums are for,” he said, pulling back onto the road before glancing over at Louis. _“Bro.”_

Louis bit down on his smirk, Harry’s condescending tone around the nickname not going unnoticed. 

Okay, maybe he wouldn’t _bro_ Harry again. It was a bit weird, all things considered. 

The rest of the drive to the beach was spent with happy chatter and banter between the two, the windows down the entire time and one of Louis’ playlists coming through the speakers. Eventually Reggie had decided he was over it and had circled a few times before finding a comfy place to park his fat bum for the remainder of the trip.

They both cheered when they saw the _Welcome to Wilmington_ sign, meaning they were _there_ and the beach was waiting for them just on the other side of the small town. Louis played it off as if he were _so glad_ to finally have arrived-- _appalled_ that they drove so far-- but in all honesty, the whole trip had flown by. He could watch Harry drive his big truck and sing along to old songs all day and be completely satisfied. 

Not that he would tell Harry that. 

So instead he had cheered, _“Finally!”_ and hid his grin into his palm.

Smooth. Real smooth. 

They found a place to park Stella that was close to the beach and then piled out of the truck. Once Reggie had been royally lifted back onto the ground, Louis busied himself by trying to pour water directly into the dog’s mouth, since he had forgotten to grab a bowl for him. He swore he was a responsible dog-dad before Harry Styles had come barging back into his life--now he was just _distracted._

But this was totally fine. 

Reggie was loving it, even if most of the water ended up hitting his nose or around his muzzle. 

Totes fine. 

“You look ridiculous,” Harry said, watching with amusement as Louis dripped more water out of the bottle into Reggie’s mouth, Reggie’s tongue flopping wildly as it tried to catch the drops. Louis laughed loudly, sticking up his middle finger at Harry and choosing not to look over. 

Afterwards, they found a place to change into their swimsuits and took turns waiting outside with the dog. Louis grabbed his sunglasses from his backpack while he waited for Harry to change, slipping them on and taking a look around. 

Even with the sunnies on, everything still seemed too bright and Louis loved it. He could smell the ocean in the air, even though they hadn’t even stepped into the sand yet, and the sun--which had seemed torturous back in Chance--now felt like the best thing Louis had ever felt. He had changed into his dark blue swim trunks and replaced his shirt with a loose white tank top that seemed to flow back and forth with the ocean breeze, keeping Louis cool even in the scorching heat. 

Finally Harry reappeared from the bathroom, wearing only his small yellow swim trunks. Louis’ eyes couldn’t help but travel down his long torso, across all the tattoos he hadn’t seen in years, and--he was pretty sure he was drooling at this point. Harry casually popped on a pair of dark sunglasses and smirked at Louis, _since Louis was being the most obvious prick in the world._

Jesus. 

Louis forced himself to look away and cleared his throat before asking, “Ready?”

“Yup!” Harry replied happily, standing there all shirtless and making Louis want to self-destruct, _fuck,_ Louis hated him. He also wanted to bend him over a nearby bench and fuck the life out of him while everybody watched. Shit. Harry turned to walk towards the beach but Louis’ feet were still frozen, helplessly watching Harry’s muscled back as he walked away from them. Reggie tugged on his leash, clearly wanting to follow Harry, and that finally got Louis’ sluggish feet moving. 

Fuck. 

Louis was _so fucked._

_Dead kittens, dead kittens, dead kittens._

Thankfully the beach wasn’t very crowded, probably because it was still before lunch, but there were still groups of people hanging around and playing in the waves. The sound of laughter and chatter echoed around Louis’ ears as he numbly followed Harry, who was trying to pick a spot for them to camp out on for the rest of the day. “Here?” Harry finally asked, stopping and turning back towards Louis. 

Louis tore his eyes away from Harry, thankful that his aviators at least _kind of_ concealed how cock-thirsty he was acting, before taking in their surroundings so he could answer Harry’s question. They were about halfway between the ocean and the street, far enough away from the other groups of beach goers that they wouldn’t be talking over each other. “Looks good to me,” Louis said, thankful that his voice came out _breezy._

Or, he hoped it had.

_So fucked._

Why did he ever allow himself into a situation where Harry would be shirtless all day? Louis was a gigantic dumbass. 

“You alright?” Harry asked, causing Louis to look back at him. He had crouched down in the sand and was unzipping his backpack to remove the towels he had brought along. 

Louis quickly nodded, waving his hand. “Perfect! Just happy to finally be here!” Louis said, his voice definitely coming off high-pitched and frantic this time. So much for being breezy. Harry just smiled up at him, standing back to his full height so he could shake out the towels onto the sand. Louis scolded himself about finding his long-forgotten chill, knowing that he couldn’t act like a Harry Styles Groupie all day long.

“And, to think, you wanted to go to the _lake_ ,” Harry teased, causing Louis to look back and glare at him, even if his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. 

“Don’t push your luck, Styles!” he said, purposely kicking up some sand onto the towel Harry had just laid out. Because he was a massive twat. 

Harry looked down at the sandy towel before smirking over at Louis. “That was yours, you know.” 

_Fuck._

But, of course, Harry Styles was perfect--so he grabbed the corner of the towel and shook the sand off before gently laying it back down, then gesturing that Louis could sit down. Harry really needed to put a shirt on before things got awkward in Louis’ pants. Louis coughed. “Actually, I’m gonna go see how Reggie feels about the ocean.” He followed up the statement by toeing his shoes off and letting his bare feet dig into the hot sand underneath. 

Harry nodded. “I’ll be down in a sec,” he said, gesturing that he was going to finish setting up their little squatting ground. Thankful for the few moments away from Harry to compose himself, to remind himself that he couldn’t just whip his cock out and shove it down Harry’s throat, Louis made his way towards the surf with Reggie happily trotting along side of him, none the wiser. The sand was hot enough that it burned Louis’ feet and he was relieved when the sand turned wet and cold as the waves began washing over them. 

Reggie backed up initially, staring down at the ocean as if it had wronged him by sneaking over his paws, and Louis couldn’t help but laugh loudly at him. “Oh, come on, ya big baby,” he said, squatting down and slapping at the water in front of Reggie, causing some to splash up on the dog. Reggie hopped around a few times, staring at Louis and staring at the water before finally clomping his way through the surf as far as his leash would let him go. 

Louis considered it for a moment, judging his surroundings, before finally reaching down and clicking the leash off of Reggie altogether. He was too old to run away, after all. Now all Louis would have to worry about was the old dog _drowning,_ because it kind of seemed like something he might get himself into. Louis turned to toss the leash back up onto the sand but his eyes quickly widened at the sight of a grinning Harry Styles darting full speed ahead at him. 

He only had time to get out, “No! Don’t you dare, Har--” before Harry ducked down and effortlessly hoisted Louis up and over his shoulder. Instantly Louis’ world turned upside down as he stared at Harry’s swimsuit-covered arse while he charged into the water, Harry laughing hysterically the whole way. Before Louis could even process everything that had happened, he was completely submerged in water, Harry’s arms slipping around his waist as they both popped back up above the water. 

“You fucking _dick head!”_ Louis laughed loudly, shoving Harry with both hands, causing Harry’s arm to fall from their spot around his waist. Harry laughed loudly, pushing his hair out of his face with both of his big hands as the waves continued to crash around them. Louis pushed his own hair out of his eyes, looking down at his now see-through shirt and then over at Reggie, who was pacing back and forth in the surf and giving off breathy _woofs._ “And look at this man!” Louis cackled, gesturing at Reggie. “He’s not even comin’ out here to save me!” 

Harry laughed even louder at that before quickly lunging at Louis again and dunking him under the next crashing wave. When they surfaced again, Louis was quick to retaliate by jumping high onto Harry’s back and shoulders in an attempt to get him under the water as well. It ended up working, but only due to the fact a wave snuck up behind them and caused Harry to stumble--Louis would still take full credit for his attack, though. 

Louis ran (as fast he could, in waist-deep water) away from Harry, trying to put distance between them because he knew another attack was coming. They were both laughing loudly, Reggie following along with them in the sand, still giving off confused _woofs_ every now and again, and when Harry’s fingertips roughly gripped into Louis’ waist, Louis squealed. 

Yeah. Not his most manly moment. 

“That’s cheating!” Louis gasped, trying to push away Harry’s prodding fingertips; his waist had always been one of the most ticklish spots on his body. Harry hauled them back down into the water during the next wave, Louis elbowing him in the process and sucking in a mouthful of salty sea water when Harry’s squirming fingers drifted higher up his sides. “You’re a--cheater!” Louis said between cackles, sending another elbow Harry’s way. 

Unfortunately, his elbow connected with Harry’s sternum, which caused Harry to instantly let go of Louis’ waist as he began coughing loudly. Louis eyes widened as he whipped around, his amusement temporarily on hold while he quickly blurted out, “Fuck! Sorry! Are you okay?” He reached forward and set his hand on Harry’s shoulder, his heart pounding as he watched Harry cough. 

“You trying to”--cough--”kill me?” Harry laughed, coughing loudly again before finally taking a deep breath in.

Relief washed over Louis. “Apparently I am! Jesus!” he said, dropping his hand from Harry’s wet shoulder. Another wave crashed around them, Reggie still stomping along in the waves and making tiny splashes as he went, but Louis didn’t take his eyes off of Harry now, just in case he was about to drop dead. 

Louis could already see the headlines. 

_Former One Direction member, Harry Styles, tragically dies at age 26, due to jealous ex-bandmate and (rumored)ex-boyfriend, Louis Tomlinson, and his windpipe-shattering right elbow! Wow! Click here for video!_

Louis was going to be hated by millions. Fuck. He’d have to go into witness protection. 

Louis shook himself from his thoughts once he was finally convinced that Harry wasn’t going to drop dead. He looked down at his see-through shirt, finally reaching down to grab the hem and pull the sopping wet fabric from his body. He tossed the shirt back up onto the beach, rolling his eyes as Reggie instantly went sniffing around it. 

“What if I had me phone in my pocket, hmm?” Louis taunted now that Harry’s initial attack was over. His swim trunks didn’t _have_ pockets, but still. His point was valid. Harry hadn’t known that before charging at Louis and bringing him into the sea. 

Harry huffed out a laugh. “You don’t have pockets.” Oh. Maybe he did notice that. 

“How do you know that? Been staring at my arse, Styles?” Louis asked, raising a taunting eyebrow. He definitely, probably, maybe shouldn’t be asking that, even in the form of bants, but his heart raced with it. 

Harry smirked, putting his hands on his hips. “Maybe. It’s a lot to look at.” 

Louis instantly flushed, even though this was just _banter, for god’s sake,_ but quickly recovered by diving under the next wave and making grabby hands at Harry’s ankles. That started round two of their water war, which lasted much longer than the first round due to Louis keeping his elbows to himself. They stayed out in the water for a while after that, messing about and happily chatting in between spats, the sun beating down hot on both of their shoulders. 

“We’re going to get fried in this sun,” Louis pointed out, gesturing up towards the scorching sun with his thumb. Harry nodded his agreement and they finally made their way out of the cool ocean and back up onto the beach. Thankfully Louis had been able to toss Reggie’s leash away before Harry’s vicious attack, so he picked that up as they made their way back to their spot Harry had set up. 

After toweling off, they both sat down and dug their toes in the sand, watching as Reggie circled around them a few times before finally laying his fat arse down. Louis removed his salt water covered aviators and dried them off on the towel, then slipped them back over his eyes and finally looked over at Harry. Which was, of course, a big mistake because _fuck_ he was beautiful. Droplets of seawater were sprinkled across his tanning skin and Louis may or may not have wanted to lean over and lick them off. 

Sensing Louis’ gaze, Harry looked over at him and smiled warmly. He parted his lips to say something, but before he could they heard someone clear their throat from behind them. Harry’s head tilted up to look over Louis’ shoulders and Louis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion before looking behind them. Standing a few feet away from the two, a girl in her late teens stood wringing her hands awkwardly in front of her under both of their attention. 

“Sorry--um, I don’t want to bother you, but--um…” 

_Oh god._

Louis told himself not to panic, even though everything in him was telling him _this was wrong._ This was exactly what was never supposed to happen--he had it ingrained into his being that he wasn’t supposed to be seen by fans in public with Harry. Which was ridiculous, because they had been spending _all_ of their spare time together back at home, but something about Chance seemed safe.

 _This..._ this was dangerous. 

Even though they had been publicly tweeting back and forth, Louis even tweeting _Harry’s mum,_ this situation still somehow made Louis’ blood run cold. 

“Hi, love, what’s your name?” Harry asked, pushing himself into a standing position and gesturing his hand out to shake. Harry had always been good at this, at meeting fans and making them feel comfortable, even when they were intruding on whatever Harry had been doing at the moment. It almost amazed Louis that he still acted this way--even though he shouldn’t have ever expected anything less than perfection from Harry Styles. 

“Mandy,” she said, reaching out with a trembling hand to shake Harry’s. “It’s so good to meet you both, I--I’m such a huge fan. Still. Always will be,” she said, looking past Harry to acknowledge Louis and--right. He was being incredibly rude. Louis took a deep breath in before pushing himself up onto his feet, smiling brightly at the girl and shaking her hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Mandy,” he said, readjusting the glasses over his eyes. 

“Do you think I--could get a picture with you two? Maybe? Please?” she asked timidly. 

Louis wanted to say no. Not because he didn’t _want_ to take a picture with her, and not because he thought she didn’t _deserve_ it, but he still had that same uneasy feeling as before. No matter how many years had passed, One Direction’s management had closeted Harry and Louis so hard and kept their relationship _such a secret,_ that it still felt like he was breaking a huge rule. 

In some ways, he was.

Because he knew that this was going to end up on the internet and that anybody who was left in their fandom would, eventually, see it. But there were technically no rules to break--because they didn’t have any rules anymore. Right. No rules. Retirement. Okay--Louis could do this. He just had to remind himself that _this was okay._ He looked over at Harry, who was giving him a questioning look, silently asking Louis if he was comfortable taking a picture with her. 

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his smile to become brighter. “Of course, love!” he said to Mandy, holding both of his arms out so they could all huddle together. With his heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears, Louis draped one arm over Harry and the other over the girl, waiting patiently as she fumbled with her phone to get the camera open. Once the shutter had gone off, Louis dropped his arms from around the two and had even managed to respond with “No problem!” after the girl had thanked them profusely. 

Louis watched silently as she retreated back to her family before turning to look at Harry, who was already staring at Louis. His heart stuttered once in his chest before he cleared his throat and said, “So. That was…” 

“Yeah,” Harry laughed quietly, shaking his head as he sat back down on his towel. Louis did the same, digging his toes in the sand and reaching forward to cover them even further with his hands. “Was that okay?” Harry asked, after a few moments of silence between the two. 

Louis looked over at him, at Harry’s nervous expression, and any apprehension he had before suddenly went away. “Of course it was,” Louis said, smiling softly at Harry. “Was that okay with _you?”_

“Yes, definitely,” Harry said, but his smile was still lost. 

Louis frowned. “Even after what you were sayin’ earlier? About being forgotten?” 

Harry sighed quietly. “That’s not what I meant.” He paused, always talking so fucking slowly. “I meant... that I don’t want to hide this time, you know? And… if the fans can’t accept that, then, yeah.” Louis’ eyes bugged out of his head at Harry’s words-- _this time_ \--his heart rate picking up by about a million beats. Harry looked over at Louis and quickly added, “I mean, hide who I am in _life._ Not”--he gestured between the two of them--”well, with us too, but I--I mean…”

Harry had clearly flustered himself, just as much as he had Louis, evident in the fact his words were no longer coming out slowly and concisely. Louis was just about to put him out of his misery and cut him off, let him know he understood and that he didn’t have to keep going, but before he could do that Harry said, “Whatever this is between us, Lou, I don’t want to hide it from anybody. Even if that’s just best friends for life, or whatever. I’m not hiding it. So… if you have a problem with that, like, please tell me now, so I don’t make an arse out of my--” 

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Louis quickly cut him off, and-- _wait, he didn’t?_ Louis’ own words took him back a step, causing him to pause and look down at the ground as he ran the words over and over again in his mind, tasting them on his tongue. “Yeah. I don’t have a problem with it,” he confirmed, smiling softly as he looked back over at Harry. 

“Really?” Harry asked, his voice quiet. 

“Really.” It hit Louis again in that moment _how much_ their relationship had evolved now. He remembered lying in his bed _freaking the hell out_ after Niall had posted the picture of the three of them on the 4th, and now he was agreeing to… something with Harry. He was pretty sure they weren’t about to tweet out to the world that they were gay, but, if that was what Harry wanted to do, Louis wanted to follow him. 

Which was _insane._

But it was moments like this, spur of the moment beach trips, that made everything seem a hell of a lot less scary to Louis. Because he wasn’t ashamed of what he and Harry had--even if they would only ever be best friends and never fall back into what they had before, Louis was okay with the whole world knowing that they were… this. 

Whatever _this_ was. 

Louis cleared his throat, his cheeks pink and his heart racing. “Can we stop being so damn serious all the time?” he asked, smirking at Harry, trying to pretend as if he wasn’t still reeling from their conversation. “Let’s have some fun. We didn’t come all this way to mope.” 

“You want me throw you back in the ocean again?” Harry taunted, returning Louis’ smirk. 

_“No thank you,”_ Louis said, rolling his eyes. He pushed himself back up into a standing position before unzipping his backpack and removing the soccer ball he had brought. “But maybe a bit of footie?” he asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully at Harry. 

“You’re on,” Harry said, standing and wiping the sand from the back of his swim shorts.  
  


***

After messing about for the next hour or so, Reggie snoozing on their towels while they kicked the ball around, their growling stomachs finally got the best of them. There was a small beachfront restaurant visible a little ways down the coast, multi-colored picnic tables spread out across the sand in front of the shop, and they both agreed to head that way.

“You think they’ll let Reggie join us?” Louis asked, clipping the lead back onto Reggie’s collar before helping Harry shake out the rest of their towels. 

“I think I can convince them,” Harry said, winking at Louis, which totally didn’t do something to Louis’ heart or anything. They finished packing up their beach supplies and dropped them back off at the truck before heading down towards the small shack cafe. Louis stood off to the side of the picnic tables, watching as Harry jogged ahead and leaned his hands against the tall wooden counter where orders were placed, saying something to the chef behind the counter. 

He couldn’t hear what Harry was saying to the man, but Harry turned and pointed at Louis and Reggie while speaking to him. Louis bit his bottom lip, watching as the guy behind the counter nodded his head and then disappeared off to the side. A few moments later, he handed Harry a disposable bowl full of ice chips and a bottle of water, which Harry accepted happily and then shook the man’s hand. Harry sauntered back towards Louis, grinning so wide all of his teeth were showing. 

“Reggie can totally hang with us by the tables,” he said, flipping his sunglasses back down over his eyes. “And Manny even threw in this water bowl for him, since you’re an irresponsible father and forgot one.” 

Louis gaped at him. “I am _not_ irresponsible!” 

“Sure you aren’t,” Harry said with a condescending tone, lightly patting Louis’ shoulder and smiling brightly at him. Louis kind of wanted to kiss him. “Let’s sit at the purple table!” Harry said excitedly, and even though his eyes were blocked by his dark sunglasses, Louis knew they had lit up at the sight of the gaudy purple picnic table. Louis nodded in agreement, taking a seat on the sun-warmed bench as Harry carefully poured the water into the bowl for Reggie. The dog sniffed at the water, causing the ice cubes to bounce around inside before he started lapping it up. 

“Good boy,” Harry cooed, scratching the dog’s back before sitting across from Louis, smiling brightly at him. Louis couldn’t help but return it. They looked over the sticky, sand-covered menus taped to the picnic table for a moment before Harry jogged off to place their orders with his new pal Manny. Louis watched him go, his eyes travelling down his back--which was thankfully, for Louis’ sake, now covered in a loose black tank--before landing on his swimsuit-covered arse. 

Those fucking tiny shorts. 

He definitely needed to look away.

When Harry returned to his spot across from Louis, he smiled and asked, “Alright?” 

“Better than,” Louis replied honestly, grinning at Harry. 

“Good.” Harry nodded. “Me too.” 

They sat in comfortable silence after that, Reggie curled up underneath the picnic table in the shade, both of their feet bumping into the dog--or each other--every once in a while. Their food only took a few minutes to prepare, so they hadn’t been sitting for too long when paper plates full of spice-covered prawns (“shrimp,” WTF M8?!) and crispy french fries were set down in front of them by Manny himself. 

“Thanks again, mate,” Harry said politely. “It all looks delicious!” 

“Enjoy, bros!” Manny happily responded, giving both of them a smile before trudging back towards the small wooden shack. Louis breathed in deeply, the amazing smell of the food mixing in with the ocean breeze, and he let his eyes fall shut as he took the moment in. 

Life was pretty damn good right now. 

They both quickly dug into their plates of food, their hands getting greasy and covered in spice as they peeled shrimp one after another, popping them into their mouths in between. They chatted happily, pointing out different things and people around the beach and making each other chuckle around a mouthful of delicious food. 

“Does your pal Manny serve beer?” Louis asked, licking spice off his thumb as he looked over at Harry--but Harry’s eyes were glued to Louis’ mouth. “...Harold?” 

“Huh? What’d you say?” Harry asked, his eyes snapping back up to meet Louis’. 

Louis grinned. “Beer?” 

“Oh! Right!” Harry said, shaking it off as he grabbed one of the paper napkins to wipe his hands off with. “I’ll go get us some, sorry.” 

“Nah, you stay,” Louis said, licking his other thumb off, a zap of heat going down his spine as he watched Harry’s eyes flick back to his mouth. Maybe Louis was doing it on purpose now. Maybe Louis needed to get a fucking grip. “I’ll go get them,” he said, grinning as he stood from the bench. 

“Are you--sure?” Harry asked, clearly distracted. 

“Back in a tick.” Louis grinned, turning away from Harry and walking back towards the pink shack. If he let his hips sway a little more exaggeratedly than usual, nobody had to know. He could feel Harry’s eyes burn into his back and he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t doing anything to him. Fuck--Louis needed to take a bath in Reggie’s ice water to calm himself down. 

He ordered two Coronas, quickly paying for them before grabbing the two cold bottles and heading back towards their table. This time, Harry was pointedly looking down at the shrimp he was peeling. Louis didn’t take it personally. He set the tacky bottles down on the table before taking up his previous spot, sipping his beer once and then picking up a handful of french fries. “This is amazing,” he said, around a mouthful of food and a happy belly. 

Harry looked up at him and grinned, taking a sip of his beer with his spice-covered hand before nodding and saying, “It really is.” Obviously it was a reply to Louis’ statement, but the sincerity in his voice made it seem like… something else. Louis’ breath caught in his throat, but he quickly played it off by shoving more spicy shrimp into his mouth. 

He was the smoothest guy alive. 

“I can’t eat another bite,” Harry groaned after both of their plates had been mostly cleared. He pushed the paper plates away from his body, rested his elbows on the table, and dropped his head into his hands. “Too… much… food.” 

Louis grinned at him, cleaning off his hands and cooing, “Aww. Poor Haz.” 

“Don’t patronize me when I’m this full,” Harry mumbled into his palms, laughing quietly. “I can’t properly retaliate.”  
  


***

The rest of the day went by in a flash.

After their food coma had subsided (and they felt light enough to walk around again), they cleared their picnic table of the rubbish and coaxed Reggie out from under the shade and back into the sunlight. There was a boardwalk just a little ways down the beach, and they had spent the next hour or so moseying along the uneven boards and popping in and out of the different shops. 

Their pace was slow as they walked, clearly in no hurry to get anywhere, and Louis swore that Harry got more beautiful as the day went on. His hair had dried naturally in the sunlight, making it soft and puffy, and Louis couldn’t help but want to run his hands through it. 

Louis’ hair, on the other hand, was a mess. He could feel where the salt water had dried it stiff and gross. 

After walking the entire length of the boardwalk, they had lounged on the beach again, choosing not to go back in the water this time and instead just sat in the sand, letting Reggie snooze again as they bantered back and forth. Eventually, though, the sun was getting lower in the sky and they both knew the day was coming to an end. 

“I can’t believe we have to drive all the way back,” Louis groaned, falling backwards into the sand and covering his face with his hands. He dug his toes into the cooling sand underneath him as Harry chuckled quietly next to him. 

“It’s not _that_ far,” Harry reasoned. He was sitting cross-legged next to Louis--who was still hiding in his elbows--while he made a mountain of sand in front of him. Louis could hear the soft swooshing sounds of the sand next to him as Harry did so, the waves crashing somewhere off in the distance. 

“It’s far enough,” Louis mumbled, his words muffled by his arms. 

Harry sighed quietly, a moment of silence passing between them before he said, “We should probably get going…” And--right. They probably should. But… Louis didn’t want this day to end yet. It had been so long since he felt this way, this unexplainable feeling he had in the pit of his stomach.

Something that only Harry Styles could ever make him feel. 

He was sure he would fret about it once he got back home. He would brew himself a cup of tea, sit on the back porch, and worry about everything he’d been feeling, the things he allowed himself to say and feel today. But right now, he was lying in the sand with the ocean in front of him, the sun setting slowly behind him… and a boy next to him who reminded him of how good life could be. 

Louis had spent the last eight years either being angry at Harry, pretending Harry didn’t exist, or missing Harry so much that his whole body ached. Now that he had him next to him, and that they were in this place in their lives where they could be something to each other and make each other happy… he didn’t want to give that up yet. 

He didn’t want to go home yet. 

He didn’t want to go home at all. 

Louis let his arms drop back down into the sand, rolling his head over to the side and glancing up at Harry, who was still quietly swiping sand from around his body into the mountain he had created in front of him. Feeling Louis’ eyes on him, he silently turned and looked at him, their eyes locking. 

_Say something._

_Say anything._

_Tell us we don’t have to go home!_

Louis stared into Harry’s eyes, screaming in his head for Harry to do something, to show Louis that he didn’t want to go home either--that Louis wasn’t alone in these crazy feelings. The seconds ticked by, their eyes unmoving from each other, the screaming in Louis’ head finally loud enough that he said, “What if we… didn’t?” 

“Didn’t…?” Harry repeated. 

Louis coughed. “Go back.” 

_Silence._

“Like, what if we went back in the morning instead…?” Louis asked, biting down on his bottom lip and worrying that maybe he _was_ alone in these feelings. Shit. What the hell had he just done? They’re only two hours away from home and _they don’t spend the night together._ Jesus Christ, what had gotten into him? Louis blamed the sun. Too much exposure led to… brain defects, apparently. 

Louis was just about to get up and run off into the ocean, hoping to drown and never be seen again, when Harry finally grinned and said, “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.” 

Fucking Harry Styles. 

Not too long after that, Louis found himself walking into the lobby of a hotel whose sign proudly displayed that they were pet friendly. In Louis’ mind, that was all he needed to know. It was a far cry from the five-star hotels they’d stayed at back in the day, but as it turned out, Wilmington wasn’t overflowing with five-star hotels. 

Funny, that. 

Louis looked around the bland lobby, the white walls seeming to blend in with the not-so-white tile floor, then looked down at Reggie. He smiled fondly at the dog, who was surely more tired than both him and Harry combined; Louis wasn’t sure of the last time Reggie had such a full day. He was sure that if Reggie could talk he would have reminded them both of his old age. As it stood, though, Reggie just looked up at Louis with tired eyes, and Louis clucked quietly at him, “Poor little lad.” 

Louis looked back over to where Harry was talking to the lady behind the front desk, tuning into their conversation when he heard her ask Harry, “Did you need one room or two, darlin’?” And-- _oh._ Right. That was a valid question. Louis’ heart rate picked up a bit, the back of his mind screaming that he didn’t want two rooms, even though _that was totally the normal thing to do._

It wasn’t that Louis expected anything to happen. He didn’t _want_ anything to happen, really; he just--felt weird about going off to different hotel rooms after spending the entire day together. It was a feeling he couldn’t explain, something akin to separation anxiety, he supposed, which he definitely wouldn’t overanalyze until he was safely back home. For now, he stared at Harry’s back, willing him to say _one room._

“Um…” Harry said dumbly, looking over his shoulder at Louis with a lost expression. 

Louis gave him a look that obviously read, _I’m cool with one room, pal._

Harry nodded, clearly understanding their silent conversation. “Two. Two rooms,” Harry said, turning back towards the lady. 

So much for their freaky mind-reading abilities. 

Louis steeled himself, sending a friendly reminder to his brain that _two rooms was totally the right answer._ They weren’t teenagers anymore. They were grown men who could totally afford two rooms. More than that, they were _ex-boyfriends_ who had just recently started to get to know each other again and build some kind of friendship. 

The very last thing either of them needed was to be spending a night in a hotel room together. 

Right. Yes. Louis was totally not going to be disappointed about this. 

Right. 

Louis waited patiently while Harry finished booking their rooms, smiling despite himself as Harry charmed his way through the interaction, leaving the middle-aged woman flushed and giggling, when he finally turned towards Louis with room keys in hand. “Ready?” Harry asked with a smile. 

“Lead the way, _darlin,”_ he said, tacking on the obnoxious nickname because it felt right. 

Harry grinned, grabbing their backpacks from near Louis’ feet and heading towards the lift. Reggie slowly walked along behind them, clearly exhausted and completely over their spur-of-the-moment road trip, and Louis felt bad for the old dog as they took the lift up to the third floor. 

“I think we’ve broken my dog,” he commented with a breathy chuckle, nodding down at where Reggie had sat down in the cramped lift, even though they had only gone three floors. Harry clucked at the dog, reaching down and scratching Reggie’s ears affectionately before the elevator doors opened. 

“Ah, here we are,” Harry commented, stopping in front of one of the doors. “The other room should be just down the hall,” he said, nodding his head somewhere behind Louis. “You feel like watching a movie or summat?” Harry asked as they entered the room, Louis flipping on the light switch and clipping Reggie’s leash off. 

“Sure,” he responded, watching as Harry dropped both backpacks down in the winged arm chair before stretching his back out, his hands raising towards the ceiling and his shirt going with it. Louis instantly looked away, letting his eyes flit around the rest of the room. As he expected from the plain lobby, the room was very basic, but it was clean and it smelled nice. The walls were covered in tacky wallpaper, a big king bed with crisp white linens in the middle of the room, and a little table and chairs were set up in the other corner. 

Louis watched as Reggie made himself at home, curling up in the corner and letting his eyes shut immediately. They had definitely worn him out. 

Breaking Louis from his thoughts, Harry piped up from behind him and asked, “How about I go raid the vending machines while you find us a movie?” 

“Sure,” Louis agreed, turning back around and smiling at him. 

Once the door shut behind him, Louis finally let a long breath leave his lungs. He was tired, but it was still too early to sleep. If anything, he was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster he had been on today. Feeling things was hard. Louis ran his fingers through his sun-dried hair. The salt water had taken a toll on it and he would definitely need to shower soon. 

But for now, he fell backwards onto the bed, stared up at the ceiling, and let everything that had happened today wash over him. Falling back into this--whatever this was--with Harry was all too easy. It was too familiar. This was exactly why they hadn’t had contact over the last eight years, because it would be too… hard. 

How was Louis ever supposed to be _just friends_ with Harry, when things between them could always be so easy? 

Louis forced his eyes open, knowing that he would drift off into dreamland--where it was nothing but _Harry, Harry, Harry_ \--and sat himself back upright. He leaned over and grabbed the remote, flipping the telly on and scrolling through the list of movies that were available. Harry appeared a few minutes later, arms full of snacks and sodas from the vending machine, a bright grin on his face as he dumped his haul down on the end of the bed. 

“Bought the whole machine out, didja?” Louis laughed, leaning forward and snatching the bag of Cheetos up before leaning back into the headboard. 

“I couldn’t decide, so, yeah.” 

“Perfect.” Louis grinned, squeezing the sides of the bag until it peeled open and he could pop a few in his mouth. “So,” Louis said, while chewing because he had no manners, “I vote either… Definitely, Maybe or… The Proposal.” 

Harry snorted. “Got a thing for Ryan Reynolds, then, do you?” 

Louis sighed dreamily. “He’s just so... _perfect.”_

“Heeyyy,” Harry pouted, neatly placing his shoes by the door before sitting down next to Louis on the other side of the bed. “I’m getting jealous over here.” 

“Oh, piss off.” Louis grinned. “You know you’re perfect, too.” And--right. The compliments came easily now. That’s fine, this was totally fine, and he totally wasn’t going to make it weird or anything. 

Harry smiled brightly at that, breaking eye contact to reach forward and snatch up the bag of pretzels. “The Proposal, then,” he finally said, offering Louis one of the cans of soda before grabbing another one for himself. Louis selected the movie and hit play before setting the remote down, wiggling around to get comfortable and totally _not_ trying to get closer to Harry or anything. 

With his back propped against the headboard, his legs sprawled towards the end of the bed, Louis settled in to watch the movie, hyperaware of Harry’s body close to his. Harry was sitting in the same position as he was, about a foot between them, Reggie happily snoozing in the corner. Louis’ eyes were focused on the movie, but his mind was still reeling.

How was this his life?  
  


***

When the movie was over, Louis rolled his head over on the pillow to look at Harry. They had shifted closer to each other at some point during the movie, the sides of their legs pressed up against each other all the way down to their ankles. Harry’s hair, which was still extra soft-looking from earlier, was now sticking in every which direction across the stark white pillow case.

Harry’s eyes were closed, but they had just been chuckling at the movie a few minutes ago, so Louis was sure he wasn’t sleeping. Regardless, he let his eyes travel down Harry’s face, which had pinked up in the sun from earlier, down to where his collar bones were jutting out from the wide neck of his bro-tank. 

Louis swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. “Haz?” 

“Hmm,” Harry hummed out a response, eyes still closed. 

“Are you asleep?” Louis whispered dumbly. 

“Yes,” Harry mumbled, the side of his lip twitching to contain his smirk. An amused breath of air puffed out of Louis’ lungs, but he didn’t respond. A few moments of silence passed, the muted TV silently playing the credits and the only other light in the room coming from the table lamp in the corner, casting the whole room in a soft yellow glow. Louis’ eyes flicked back over to Harry, who must have sensed it because he smiled softly, even with his eyes still shut. 

Louis carefully rolled onto his side, resting his head on his bent arm, watching Harry intently and committing the moment to his memory. It was… peaceful, here in this random hotel in Wilmington; it was the exact opposite of how he saw his day panning out when he had woken up that morning. But now, staring at Harry, who was lying flat on his back with his arms sleepily crossed over his chest, Louis was sure there was no place he’d rather be. 

“Mmkay,” Harry finally mumbled, his voice low and slow. “I’m getting up…” he said, though his eyes remained closed and no part of his body even twitched with the sign of movement. Another amused chuckle left Louis’ lungs, biting down on his bottom lip hard as he continued to stare at the side of Harry’s face. “Gonna get up and go to the other room now,” Harry clarified, finally turning his head to the side and cracking one green eye open at Louis. 

Louis instantly smiled, a smile he didn’t even feel coming on until it was happening, wanting to reach out and run his fingers through Harry’s messy hair. See if it was as soft as it looked. Louis had never touched Harry’s hair when it was this short. When he had met him, at the ripe age of sixteen, Harry’s hair was curly and could be compared to a fluff ball. Now Harry’s hair was short and sometimes a bit puffy, but the curls were long gone. Louis wanted to know if it felt the same running between his fingers. 

If it felt the same gripped tight between his fist. 

He was getting creepier by the second. 

He also didn’t want Harry to leave, even though he knew there was an empty hotel room down the hall with his name on it, but he didn’t know how to ask him not to go. So instead, he laid there motionless, staring at Harry’s short hair and wishing things could be different. For the same reason he hadn’t wanted Harry to get a second room to begin with, he didn’t want Harry to leave now. It had been such a long day, and Harry’s body was so warm next to his that it felt weird for him to get up and leave now. 

Even though he knew that was what _should_ happen.

There was no reason in the world he should share a bed with his ex-boyfriend, no matter how platonic it could be. 

That wasn’t what normal people did. 

But then again, Louis and Harry had never really been normal. 

Harry’s eye cracked open again and he let out a tiny giggle when he found Louis still staring at him. Louis chuckled quietly back at him before asking, “What?” 

“Nothing.” Harry shook his head, smiling fondly at Louis while he rolled onto his side to face him, folding his arms up to mirror Louis’ and resting his cheek on them. They were lying much closer now, barely any space left between them, their knees knocking into one another's. Louis watched as Harry’s eyes drifted all across his face before finally landing back on his own. “What’re you thinking about?” Harry whispered.

_How much I want to kiss you._

Louis coughed. “Nothing.” 

“Hmm,” Harry hummed skeptically, but chose not to push it. “I should go to my room,” he said again. 

“Yeah,” Louis agreed quietly, trying to play along. To play the part he knew was meant for him.

_Because exes don’t share beds._

Right. Exactly. 

Harry didn’t move to get up though; instead he continued to stare at Louis with a soft smile. Louis was reminded of all the times they had shared hotel rooms in the past, remembering all the nights they’d be lying in similar positions, recapping their days for one another. All the times they had meaningful conversations with each other late at night, when the rest of the world was sleeping. 

The majority of his relationship with Harry had been spent in hotel rooms, given their chosen career paths, and being back in one with him now--all these years later--was like a shock to Louis’ system, but in the best way possible. Louis’ whole body felt warm; everything felt-- _right._ Like the part of his life he’d been missing out on was finally back and he was suddenly whole again. 

Louis really didn’t want him to leave. 

Louis almost felt like Harry could feel it too, that the fond smile across his face was because he was thinking the same thoughts, remembering how easy it always was between the two of them. But then the illusion began to crack, because Harry once again repeated, “Okay… getting up for real this time.” 

They stared at each other. 

Harry’s lip twitched twice before it went back into a full blown smile. 

Louis loved him. 

The thought had barely finished crossing his mind before Harry was actually sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed and Louis’ heart picked up in his chest as he panicked slightly. He _really_ didn’t want Harry to leave. He tried to find the words to say it, to ask him without it being weird, without sounding as desperate as he felt. Harry turned his head back towards Louis, smiling down at him softly. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” 

Louis swallowed, his throat feeling like it had rocks in it, and once he realized the words wouldn’t come he just nodded dumbly instead. Harry moved to get up then, bracing his palms flat on the bed to push himself up, and before Louis could think about what he was doing, his hand darted out and wrapped around Harry’s wrist. Harry turned his head back and blinked at him, his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. 

They stayed like that for another few seconds, Louis able to feel Harry’s pulse in his wrist from how tightly he was holding on to it. Finally, Louis whispered, “Stay?” 

Another moment of horrible silence passed between them, where Louis was hit with the sudden realization that _he was being a massive twat,_ but before he could panic too much, Harry’s face melted back into a smile. 

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

Louis barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get two rooms, you dork?!” 

“I don’t know!” Harry laughed defensively. “We hadn’t discussed it! And she was just-- _staring_ at me like, _Bro, it’s a simple question,”_ Harry continued, causing Louis to snort as he finally let go of Harry’s wrist and rolled onto his back, still laughing quietly at him. “And _you_ weren’t helping,” Harry continued, poking Louis in the ribs once, causing him to giggle again. 

He was so relieved Harry wasn’t leaving.

“I didn’t think you’d _want_ to get two rooms,” Louis laughed, grinning over at Harry. 

“I didn’t!” 

“Well,” Louis huffed, amused, “you should have said something, then.” 

“You’re impossible,” Harry groaned, letting his head fall into his hands. 

Louis loved him so fucking much.

“That’s part of me charm,” Louis said, grinning happily up at the ceiling. He looked back over at Harry, just as he had lifted his head from his hands, and they locked eyes and smiled at each other. Louis sat himself up then, running his hands through his messy hair as he told Harry, “I’ll go take Reggie out one last time and then we can sleep, yeah?” 

“Okay.” Harry nodded his agreement. Louis got up and went to put his shoes on, but he could feel Harry’s eyes burning into his back, so he looked over his shoulder at him and raised a questioning eyebrow. “I could take him, if you want,” Harry offered. 

Louis smiled. “Thanks, but--he’s my responsibility. I got it.” 

“I know.” Harry shrugged. “But if you’re too tired, or something.” 

Louis’ whole body felt warm. 

Fuck Harry Styles for being so god damned perfect all the time. 

“I’ll be back in a mo,” Louis said, slipping his shoes on before grabbing up Reggie’s leash and waking the dog up from his slumber. If he was being honest, the fresh air would probably be good for him--help him clear his head before heading back into the room he’d be sharing with Harry for the rest of the night. He told this to Reggie while they were in the lift heading downstairs, the dog staring up at him with an expression that showed just how pathetic Louis was being. 

They stepped outside into the warm summer night, Louis pausing for a moment to let his body adjust to the humid air after being in the cool hotel room for a few hours. The pair headed towards the grassy area across the street. Louis could really go for a cigarette right now, to calm down his nerves _that were there for no reason._

He hadn’t been too nervous to ask Harry to stay--he shouldn’t be feeling them now. 

Nothing was going to happen, after all. 

This was just two lads sharing a room. 

The fact that Louis was still in love with Harry and often thought about kissing the life out of him was irrelevant and totally not the point. 

This was just two bros being lads. 

Totally casual. 

“You don’t happen to have a smoke on you, do you mate?” Louis asked Reggie, blinking at the dog, who ignored him in favor of sniffing around a fire hydrant. Louis sighed, scrubbing his hands down his face before looking up at the sky. After a few more minutes of Reggie sniffing around, he was finally done with his business and Louis tugged him back towards the hotel. 

They made their way silently back to the room, Louis finding the room empty when they got back inside, but he could hear the shower running and could see a strip of light coming from underneath the bathroom door. Louis toed his shoes off, preoccupying himself by filling a bowl of water for Reggie and finding the ziplock bag full of kibble he had stuffed away earlier.

Louis sat at the end of the bed, watching as Reggie lapped at his water bowl, the only sound in the room coming from the shower and Harry’s muffled humming, the tune something Louis didn’t recognize. Louis looked down at his toes, digging them into the hard hotel carpet, listening as the shower turned off and the shower curtain was pulled back. 

He blinked down harder at his toes, trying not to think about how Harry was naked and dripping wet right now. 

An awkward boner wasn’t going to help anything. 

The bathroom door opened behind him and he turned to glance at Harry, his breath dying in his throat when he realized Harry was clad only in tight black boxer briefs. Louis blinked furiously, watching as Harry scrubbed the towel over his hair a few times before hanging it over the back of a chair. Louis was pretty sure all the blood in his body was rushing south and he had to forcibly tell himself to look elsewhere before Harry realized he was staring. 

“Erm, sorry, I didn’t--uh--bring anything to sleep in?” Harry said, causing Louis to look over at him again. He was just standing there, in his boxers, scratching mindlessly at his hip and looking like a fucking _vision._ Louis was so fucked. Maybe he should hide out in the spare room after all. 

Louis then realized what Harry had said and--shit. “Me neither,” Louis awkwardly laughed, biting his lip and letting his eyes hopelessly wander down the expanse of Harry’s body. _Shit._ He had to get himself under control. He stood up from the bed, getting distracted again by Harry brushing his wet hair back with his fingers, before he shook himself from his thoughts and said, “Well, I mean. It’s nothing we haven’t, uh…” _seen before._

“Right,” Harry laughed, though it sounded just this side of frantic. “Well, the um… shower’s all yours, if you want.” 

“Right! Right,” Louis said, coughing into his shoulder before looking around helplessly. How did showers work again? What was the next step? His brain seemed to be short-circuiting. It wasn’t his fault, really; all the blood that was supposed to be in his brain was unfortunately taking up residence in his cock. “Shower. Okay. I’ll just--go shower.” He looked over at Harry, watching as a smirk slowly spread across his face and, _fuck._ Louis was being such a twat. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead all that came out was a pathetic squeaky noise. 

Realizing he needed to get the fuck out of there, he quickly rushed into the bathroom and shut the door, letting his forehead rest against the cool wood as he squeezed his eyes shut. Once he remembered how to breathe and he didn’t feel like he was about to pass out anymore, he quickly removed his clothes and stepped into the still damp shower stall. He pulled the curtain closed, staring straight ahead at the shower dials as all things Harry attacked his senses. 

Technically it smelled like the hotel-provided shampoo and body wash, nothing at all like Harry’s typical scent, but Louis swore that under all that he could still _smell_ Harry and it was doing nothing to help his situation. Louis turned the water on finally, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as the warm water pounded down over him, and before he even realized what he was doing, his hand had grasped his now fully hard cock and began tugging on it. 

“Fuck,” he groaned quietly to himself, letting his head fall back as the warmth in his belly grew. He wrapped his hand tighter around his cock, thumbing at the head just long enough to let a hiss escape his lungs before going back to his long, tight strokes. He had no choice, really; it was either tug one out in here, or go back out there with a raging hard on. 

He turned and leaned his head against the wet tiles, his arm pumping furiously as his mind raced through different images, trying to keep this strictly business and just get it over with, rather than to let his mind actually wander to where it wanted to go. Despite all of his intentions on keeping it business, though, his brain started flashing images of Harry at him. 

From the most recent image of Harry in his boxers with his wet hair, water dripping down his toned stomach and absorbing into the thin material of his briefs. Those fucking laurel tattoos displayed in all of their glory, their sole purpose to make Louis throb. To showing up in his town and being perfect, looking perfect, looking like he hadn’t aged at all over the last eight years. Going out of his way to be nice to Louis, to be friends with Louis, all the while looking just as good as he did back then. His stupid tiny shorts and his stupid _I run a hundred miles a month_ muscles and looking _even better_ than Louis remembered.

Back when he was Louis’. 

Back when his stupid pink mouth looked so good wrapped around Louis’ cock. 

The way he’d fall to his knees, gripping Louis hips so hard he’d bruise, desperately mouthing at Louis through his pants. He wouldn’t even wait for Louis to get fully undressed, so desperate for it that he’d just pull Louis’ cock out of whatever pants he was wearing, gagging for it and sounding like he’d just _die_ if he didn’t get his mouth around Louis. 

How he’d use that stupid mouth to beg Louis, _plead_ Louis. _Please let me suck your cock,_ and--fuck-- _fuck,_ Louis was coming, shooting all over the tiles and biting down on his arm to stay quiet. 

His breaths came out ragged as his eyes shot open and he stared at the tile, watching as the shower washed his come off the wall and into the drain and _fucking hell._ What happened to keeping it strictly business? Where the fuck had all that come from? “Fuck,” he whispered again, groaning quietly to himself as he rinsed his hand off before turning around and letting the water run over his hair. 

He had purposely kept all of _those_ thoughts about Harry locked up in the deepest corner of his mind. 

Apparently all it took to have them flooding back to the forefront was to see Harry Styles dressed only in his pants. 

Louis’ life was so unfair. 

He made quick work of the rest of his shower, knowing that he was taking too long even if he had come embarrassing quickly. He shut the water off and grabbed a towel from the rack, running it across his body and through his hair before wrapping it around his waist. In his mad dash to get away from a mostly-naked Harry Styles, he had forgotten his clean pair of boxers in his backpack. He steeled himself, looking at his slightly pinked cheeks and convincing himself that he could blame it on the sun from earlier before opening the door and heading straight to his backpack. 

He grabbed the briefs and turned around to head back to the bathroom, pausing when he noticed Harry had flopped face-down onto the bed, his arms curled up underneath his pillow and his back rising and falling in an even pattern. Louis tiptoed back to the bathroom, pausing to take one more glance at Harry and confirm, now that he could see his face, that his eyes were shut and he was sleeping peacefully. 

Good. 

There was no chance he had heard Louis’ shower rendezvous, then. 

At least God was on Louis’ side this one time. 

He shut the bathroom door, looking at himself in the mirror for a few minutes before finally shaking his head and slipping his boxers on. He hung the towel up, clicking the bathroom light off before quietly making his way back out into the main room. He briefly thought about grabbing his spare tee from his bag, thinking that the more layers he had on before getting in bed with Harry the better, but with one more glance at Harry’s sleeping form he ultimately decided against it. He switched the main light off and felt his way to the unoccupied side of the bed, dressed only in his briefs. 

Harry stirred when Louis sat down on the bed, turning his head over in his arms to blink at Louis in the darkness. “Go back to sleep,” Louis whispered, sliding under the covers and flexing his toes against the cool sheets. 

Harry hummed out a response, silence washing over them for a few seconds before he quietly mumbled, “You smell good.” 

“I smell like you,” Louis snorted, rolling his eyes since they had both used the same generic shampoo. 

A beat of silence passed before Harry whispered, “I know.” Louis looked over at him, watching as Harry’s lips twitched up into a smirk as he blinked at him in the darkness. They had forgotten to shut the curtains, the streetlight from outside giving off enough light that Louis could just make out Harry’s features. 

He kind of wished he couldn’t, because _fuck_ he was gorgeous. 

Louis took a deep breath in, ignoring Harry’s comment as he wiggled around to get comfortable. Harry sat up enough to slide his legs under the covers, Louis able to feel his body heat against his own legs even though there was space left in between them. Harry had always been like a human furnace--especially when sharing a bed with him. 

Louis closed his eyes, listening as Harry shuffled around to get comfortable. When Louis peeked one eye open again, he saw that Harry had turned his back to him, the long expanse of his back now beautifully displayed for Louis to lose his cool over. He turned his head back towards the ceiling, blinking tiredly up at the red light of the smoke detector, his body feeling loose and relaxed after his hurried wank. 

“Hey, Lou?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, his voice gravelly with sleep. 

“Hmm?” 

Harry turned his head over his shoulder to look at Louis, who rolled his head to the side on the overly starched pillow beneath him. They made eye contact, what they could in the dark room, before Harry smiled sleepily at him. “Thanks for coming with me today.” 

Louis’ heart fluttered in his chest. “Today was so much fun,” he said quietly, needing Harry to know that he was happy, that he was _glad_ Harry had forced him to take this trip. Happy that they had ended up here, in this nondescript, pet-friendly hotel, sharing a bed together after a whole day full of activities. 

Louis loved him so fucking much. 

“Thanks for bringing me,” Louis finished, his tone still quiet, Harry’s head still awkwardly turned over his shoulder to make eye contact with Louis. At his words, Harry beamed and let his head fall back away from him. Even though Louis could no longer see him, he could _feel_ Harry smiling into the mattress. 

“Thanks for letting me stay,” Harry said, muffled into the pillow. This time, Louis snorted. 

“Thanks for not making me sleep here alone.” 

“Thanks for not making me sleep in jeans,” Harry fired back, their talk somehow turning into a battle of wits. 

Louis snorted. “Thanks for not being hard to look at,” he said, biting down on his bottom lip to suppress his grin. 

There was a beat of silence, before Harry said around a quiet chuckle, “Thanks for having an arse I could write sonnets about.” 

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it?” Louis laughed, covering his face with his arms. “To get me in my pants?” 

“Maybe,” Harry chuckled. “You’ll never know.” 

“Thanks for being so shameless,” Louis giggled, letting his arms fall back to the bed dramatically. He was definitely glad for that wank now, or this conversation would have made sleeping impossible. 

“Thanks for buying me breakfast in the morning,” Harry said around a yawn, the two of them falling back into their thank you game seamlessly. 

“Thanks for buying me a souvenir shot glass before we leave,” Louis laughed. 

Harry snorted. “Since when do you buy souvenirs?” 

“I don’t, typically. But sometimes I like a reminder of all the fun I had.” And--right. Another too-serious answer to a cheeky question. Classic Tommo. Louis cringed silently, covering his face with his hands again, even though Harry’s back was still to him. 

They laid in silence for a minute or so, Harry’s quiet voice finally breaking it when he whispered, “Thanks for the honest answer.” And, right. His tone was too sincere for this game as well. Was it even a game they were playing anymore? Louis let his arms drop from his face again, staring back up at the blinking red light on the ceiling. 

They were silent for so long that Louis thought Harry had fallen asleep, so when his voice broke the silence, Louis startled a bit. “I think I’d like a shot glass too, then.” 

Louis grinned up at the damn blinking light of the smoke detector, all of his worries leaving him at once as he finally relaxed back into the bed. He had to stop second guessing himself when it came to Harry, stop panicking every time he said something honest to him, because--Harry knew him. He knew him better than almost anybody else in the world, and Harry _chose_ to be here with Louis right now. 

He hadn’t known Louis lived in Chance when he first arrived, but every decision he had made since then had been based around the intel that Louis _did_ live in Chance. He kept coming back for a reason, he kept showing back up in Louis’ life for a reason, and--fuck it. Louis was done pretending like it didn’t matter to him. He was done second-guessing himself on letting Harry back in. He was done psyching himself up over what all this _meant._

It was time to start living in the moment, wherever that took him. 

He was ready for it. 

He was ready for Harry. 

He was ready to stop being so pathetic all the damn time. 

Nodding to himself, convinced that he just had one of those moments that he’d be able to look back on and remember the exact point when his perspective had changed, he turned on his side so his back was facing Harry. He nuzzled into his pillow, smiling happily to himself, ready for whatever tomorrow would bring. 

“Night, Haz.” 

“G’night, Lou.”  
  


* * *

  
  
When Louis woke up the next morning, his eyes still screwed shut, he was aware of three things.

  1. He was sweating. He didn’t remember the room being this hot when he went to bed last night, but now everything seemed like torture. This fringe sticking to the front of his forehead was becoming gross and unbearable. 
  2. One of Reggie’s paws was digging into his lower back. He vaguely remembered the dog jumping up in the middle of the night, remembered scooting closer to Harry to make room for the stompy dog, groaning quietly at him to settle down or get off the bed. 
  3. He was rock hard. 



Still half-asleep and not remembering his surroundings, he groaned quietly and subtly rocked his hips down into the mattress, trying to get some relief for his throbbing cock. It wasn’t until he had rocked his hips down a second time that he suddenly became aware and realized he wasn’t bucking into the _mattress_ , but rather…

Oh god. 

Louis eyes shot open, realizing with a flash of horror the reason he was sweating was due to being spooned up against Harry’s back and he was currently rocking his _very hard cock_ against the swell of Harry’s arse and _oh god._

Louis was creepy and didn’t deserve to have anything good in his life.

It was then he realized, to his mortification, that Harry was definitely awake. 

Harry was lying stock still, rigid even, but Louis could see the way his chest was rapidly rising and falling and there was no way he was asleep. God, Louis was literally the worst person alive. He quickly pushed back from Harry, his back colliding with the sleeping Reggie who was quick to jump off the bed, Louis and Harry’s sweaty legs untangling from each other with an unpleasant stick. Louis frantically sat up and swung his legs over the bed. 

“I’m _so_ fucking sorry,” he said, shifting his hips uncomfortably and dropping his head to his hands. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

“It’s, um, alright. Erm--okay, I mean. It… you know, happens,” Harry choked out, and though Louis wasn’t looking he could feel Harry sit up and mirror his position on the other side of the bed, their backs facing each other. Louis let his head fall back on his shoulders, blinking up at the ceiling and wondering why he had the worst luck in the world. 

“I’m such a twat. I…”--Louis cringed--“was dry humping you.” 

Harry awkwardly chuckled. “It’s okay.” 

“How long was I--” No, fuck that, Louis didn’t want to know.

Unfortunately Harry answered anyway. “Um… not too long.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Louis said, reaching down to adjust himself in his tight briefs before sneaking a glance at Harry over his shoulder. “I’m disgusting and I’m sorry.” 

This time, Harry chuckled for real, looking over his shoulder at Louis. “It’s fine, really. Um… proximity, and all that. It’s--natural.” Louis wanted to die. Harry quickly got up, keeping his back to Louis as he grabbed his clothes from his backpack. “I’m just gonna--um,” Harry didn’t finish his sentence, instead just pointed to the bathroom over Louis’ other shoulder. 

“Sure.” Louis nodded, feeling so awkward he never thought he’d recover. 

It wasn’t until Harry walked past him that he noticed. 

Harry’s clothes were bunched up in front of him but it did nothing to hide the straining bulge in his even-tighter briefs as he tried to quickly slip past Louis and _Oh my god._ He was just as hard! Louis watched him hurry into the bathroom, Louis’ eyes going comically wide even after Harry had shut the door and he was left alone again. 

The awkwardness slowly faded, relieved to know he wasn’t the only one affected, but it did nothing to flag his painful erection. “Fuck me,” he groaned quietly, absentmindedly palming himself as he stood and grabbed his clothes to change into. If there was a list of reasons why ex-boyfriends didn’t share beds, this _had_ to be at the top. 

He grabbed a water bottle out of his backpack and chugged the rest in one go--looking down at his tented briefs afterwards and grumbling to himself when he realized this wasn’t going away on its own. He leaned against the table, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking about everything that would usually make his erection go away. 

Nan. Nan wrapping Christmas presents. Nan wrapping Christmas presents and taking them to the senior citizen home. Dead kittens. Kittens getting run over by a bus. A bus hitting a basket full of kittens. Kittens, kittens, kittens. Harry dressed as a kitten. Harry purring like a kitten when Louis would---

“Fucking hell,” Louis said, hastily pulling on his shorts and adjusting himself again to fit properly in them. He was just starting to feel like _maybe_ he could get himself under control, when he heard the faintest intake of breath coming from the shower and-- _no._

Harry couldn’t possibly be…

And just like that, Louis was throbbing all over again and whimpering quietly with the need to get a hand around himself. 

He looked around frantically, spotting the other hotel key card that had gone unused the night before. _Perfect._ He quickly snatched up the card, throwing a tank over his head before slipping out into the hallway--barefooted--and quickly walking down the hall, a hand covering his poorly concealed erection the whole time. 

His hands fumbled with the lock, trying and failing to swipe the card through the reader, and eventually he ended up dropping the card altogether. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled, frustrated and feeling like he was a few minutes away from coming in his pants like a teenager. He snatched the card up and hastily swiped it through the reader, shoving the door open with entirely too much force afterwards. 

He had barely gotten the door closed when he shoved his shorts and briefs down in one go, unattractively spitting into his palm before grabbing a hold of himself--shame be damned--and sighing loudly at the feeling. He braced his free hand against the back of the door, realizing how desperate he must look with his pants around his ankles and not two feet inside the closed door. 

But right now, he couldn’t care any less. 

“Fuck,” he groaned quietly, _fuck that’s good._ He tightened his hand around himself, tugging himself off in quick, tight strokes with his eyes squeezed shut and thinking of _Harry, Harry, Harry._ He dropped his forehead into the crook of his arm, breathing in deeply on a particularly rough stroke, his hand freezing when a familiar scent filled his nose. He opened his eyes, glancing down at his shirt only to realize that he had grabbed _Harry’s_ tank instead of his own, and that Harry was overwhelming his senses. 

Louis moaned loudly, spitting down into his palm again before resuming his strokes, pre-come bubbling out of his slit and adding to the tight wetness of his hand. He breathed loudly, smelling the shirt again as his hand _click click clicked_ around his cock and he was going to come in no time at all. God, Louis was almost thirty years old and yet here he was frantically stripping his cock like he was twelve all over again. 

Harry _really_ fucked with his mind. 

_Harry._

Louis felt the heat in his belly spread, his balls tightening up close to his body. All it took to send him over the edge was thinking about Harry in the other room, standing in the shower with his big cock in his big hand, and suddenly he was exploding all over himself, gasping out a breath as he tried in haste to catch it all in his palm. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said, shivering with over-sensitivity as he dropped his cock, looking around for something to clean his hand off with. He waddled over to the bathroom, pants still tight around his ankles, his softening cock bouncing against his thigh and his palm full of his own come and _fuck._

Louis was so, _so_ fucking fucked.  
  


***

When Louis finally made it back to the room he shared with Harry, it was about fifteen minutes later and his heart rate had just fallen back to a normal speed. He opened the door, his eyes instantly locking onto Harry’s, who was sitting fulling dressed at the edge of the bed, his phone held tightly between his hands.

“There you are,” Harry breathed, a look of relief washing over him. 

“Um. Yeah, sorry, I--” _had to go wank._

“I thought you had left. You know, because of…” Harry trailed off quietly with a nervous sort of laughter, looking away from Louis’ eyes and back down to his phone. Louis closed the door, chuckling softly at Harry as he made his way over to the bed. 

“And just leave my dog here?” he asked gently, avoiding Harry’s implications as he sat down on the edge of the bed, making sure to leave plenty of room between them. Harry just shrugged, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he continued to avoid Louis’ eyes. “I just went to… use the loo in the other room. Since you were in ours,” Louis said, trying his best to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

Even though he was positive they _both_ knew what the other had been doing. 

“Ah,” Harry said quietly, still glancing down at his phone even though Louis could see the screen was locked. The silence in the room was almost deafening, the buzz of the aircon the only noise other than Louis’ pounding heartbeat in his ears. Finally Harry looked over at him, his eyes flicking from his face down to his chest. “You’re wearing my shirt.” 

“Shit,” Louis said, looking down at his own chest. “Yeah, I grabbed it by mistake. Sorry.” 

He moved to pull the shirt off, but Harry quickly reached out and stopped him with a shake of his head. “No, it’s okay,” he said, Louis’ arm slowly dropping back to his lap. “It looks better on you anyway.” Louis instantly blushed despite himself, looking down at his lap and avoiding Harry’s soft eyes. _God,_ he was so gone for Harry it was stupid.

“It’s about ten times too big,” Louis laughed awkwardly, pinching the fabric away from his belly. He glanced over at Harry, only to find him grinning brightly at him. 

“I know,” Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows. That finally had them both laughing again for real, the awkwardness of this morning finally lifting a bit, Louis feeling like he could finally breathe again.

“Fuck off,” Louis laughed, pushing Harry’s shoulder before standing up from the bed. 

“Aw, it’s okay that you’re so tiny, Lou,” Harry cooed. Louis glared at him, flipping him the bird with both hands, even though his expression showed nothing but fondness towards Harry. He gathered up his belongings after that, stuffing the shirt he had planned to wear inside his backpack and leaving Harry’s too-big tank on instead. The arm holes sagged down deep on his side, exposing most of his ribs and collarbones in the process, but fuck it. It smelled like Harry. 

And Harry was clearly pleased with Louis wearing it. So--there was that. 

“Are you ready to go, you dork?” Louis asked, ignoring the heat radiating off his cheeks, crouching down to pet Reggie’s belly to occupy his hands. 

“No,” Harry replied simply, falling backwards on the bed with his legs dangling off the edge. “The beach life is where it’s at. We should move here.” 

_We._

Louis breathed in deeply, swallowing the lump in the back of his throat and reminding himself, for the thousandth time, _to chill._ Just because they had woken up with raging morning boners, and Louis may or may not have tried to rub one out on Harry’s arse, didn’t mean they were incapable of bantering ever again. 

Right. Bants. This was all just… bants. 

Casual bants. 

“I quite like me house, actually, so it’s a no for me.” 

“Thank you, Simon Cowell,” Harry deadpanned, and even though Louis wasn’t looking at him he could practically hear him roll his eyes. 

“How very dare you,” Louis laughed. “Please refrain from ever calling me that again. Cheers, mate.” 

Harry snorted. “I wonder what Simon’s up to nowadays.” 

“You mean to tell me you haven’t stayed up to date with the gossip rags, young Harold?” 

“Hardly,” Harry laughed, his shirt rucked up while he scratched at his toned belly. Louis wanted to lick all over his laurel tattoos. Louis needed to get himself the fuck together. Silence fell over the room again, neither one of them moving. Harry peered over at Louis without sitting up, his neck bent in a half crunch, and when their eyes met he smiled, letting himself flop back down on the mattress. 

Louis bit down hard on his bottom lip to contain his smile and focused on scratching Reggie’s ears. 

“Alright,” Harry breathed out, swinging his body up and off the bed. He clapped his hands together and looked down at Louis. “Up and at ‘em! Hit the road, Jack! And… all that,” he said, grinning at Louis, who rolled his eyes in return before popping up off the floor. They left the room behind, Louis glancing around one last time to make sure they had gotten everything, and as they headed towards the front desk to check out, Louis tried to leave all of the awkwardness from this morning behind him. 

Sure, he accidentally grinded on Harry a bit. And, yeah, okay, he had to have some emergency wanks to keep himself under control… and so what if he also might have gotten Harry a little hot this morning? That could easily be blamed on your average morning wood. So, right. Everything was going to be fine. He would leave all of the awkward boners and pent up sexual frustration behind in Wilmington. 

That was the plan, at least, until they were driving out of the city and Louis happened to look over at Harry, driving his big truck with the wind whipping through his short hair, the sun light reflecting off his black wayfarers and looking like he descended from heaven just to torture Louis. He swallowed the lump in his throat, quickly turning his head to look out the window, breathing in the fresh summer air and reminding himself, as always, _to chill._  
  


***

They pulled into Louis’ driveway later that afternoon, the drive home taking longer than it should have because they stopped for lunch and to let Reggie trot around for a while. After spending so much time non-stop with Harry, Louis _should_ have been thankful they were finally home, but all he could feel as they jumped out of the truck was sadness that their road trip had come to an end.

“I’ll grab the cooler,” Harry said, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he went around the back of the truck to grab the blue cooler. Louis headed towards the front door, stretching his legs out as he went after their car ride, Reggie moseying along behind him. He unlocked the door, stepping inside the house and feeling like he had been gone for weeks. 

He held the door open for Harry, who was carrying the cooler with the now melted ice sloshing around inside, giving Louis a cheeky smile as he passed. Louis took a deep breath in, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before turning around to watch Harry walk into the kitchen. 

“You can just leave it there,” Louis said, nodding in the general direction of the kitchen. “I’ll empty it later.” 

“Cool,” Harry replied simply, setting it down on the floor of the kitchen before turning around to face Louis. “Well. I--guess I should be off then,” Harry said, walking towards Louis who was still standing by the front door. “I’m sure you’re ready to be rid of me,” he teased, giving him a sassy look before winking. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Of course. Your company is shit, after all.” 

“I figured as much,” Harry chuckled, stretching his arms high above his head, his shirt riding up his abs again before flopping back down. “Thanks again for coming with me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and smiling softly at Louis. Louis nodded, the heel of his foot propped against the doorframe as he looked at Harry. 

“I had a lot of fun,” Louis finally said, his words soft and honest. 

“Good. So did I,” Harry said, grinning at him with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. 

_Fuck,_ Louis wanted to kiss him so bad. 

The energy in the room was thick, their words casual, but Louis could feel something in the air. The house was silent, other than Reggie’s paws clicking against the wooden floor somewhere, and Louis drummed his fingers nervously on his bent knee while they stood there silently. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat, not knowing what to say but not wanting Harry to leave. 

“Sooo… I’ll see you soon?” Harry asked, eyebrows raising hopefully, his arms still crossed casually over his chest. 

“Right. See you--soon,” Louis said, swallowing again and making no effort to move out of Harry’s way. That seemed to make Harry smile wider. 

“Did you want to lock down dates now, or…?” Harry teased, grinning even brighter. Louis barked out a laugh, shaking his head and looking down at the floor. He was very aware that he was blocking Harry from leaving by standing in the doorway, but every time he told his muscles to move, nothing happened. “Should I send you an iCal invite?” Harry continued his teasing, chuckling quietly. 

“Sounds great,” Louis laughed. 

“Cool. Expect that in your inbox shortly.” 

“Cool,” Louis echoed, looking back up at Harry and smiling at him. 

They still didn’t move. 

Seconds ticked past, the room so quiet you could hear a pin drop, Louis looking above Harry’s shoulder to avoid his eyes. He could see Harry shift to the side a bit, his arms uncrossing and resting casually on his hips. 

Harry cleared his throat. “Did you…” He chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, did you need something?” Louis flicked his eyes back to Harry, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “Just. You’re, um…” _blocking the door._

Louis looked over his shoulder at the offending door, chewing on the inside of his cheek before looking back to Harry. 

“Louis?” Harry asked, quieter this time. “What is it?” 

Simple question, _not so simple answer._

Louis didn’t know what he wanted, exactly, but his feelings had been all mixed up since Harry got to town anyway, so this was no surprise. He didn’t know how to answer Harry, so instead he stayed silent, frowning over at him and wishing that he just-- _got it._ That he could read Louis’ jumbled thoughts and figure out what he wanted. 

Because Louis was doing a shit job of figuring it out on his own.

Harry took a hesitant step towards him. “Lou?” 

“I…” Louis trailed off. 

“Hmm?” Harry gently encouraged. 

Louis sighed, scrubbing his hands down his cheeks, his eyes popping a bit afterwards. He finally shrugged, his arms flopping out to the sides before dropping back down. His foot slid back to the floor so he was standing on both feet.

Harry took another slow step towards Louis, the distance between them growing shorter and shorter. Louis gulped. 

“What is it?” Harry asked again, his tone hardly above a whisper. “What’s wrong?” 

Why couldn’t Louis form words?

Harry’s eyes looked a bit frantic when they met again, his eyebrows scrunched together as he looked helplessly at Louis. He slowly reached forward, his palm hesitating above Louis’ shoulder--Louis holding his breath as he watched--before Harry sighed quietly and let his arm fall back down. 

“You gotta--” Harry paused, his Adam’s apple bobbing before continuing, “You gotta give me something here.” 

“I know,” Louis sighed, squeezing his eyes shut again as he shook his head, frustrated with himself. He blinked his eyes back open, frowning at Harry and wanting to close the gap between them so badly he ached with it. But he couldn’t do that, right? That would be a terrible idea? This was just a hormonal thing after spending so much time together over the past 24 hours. 

Proximity, Louis remembered Harry saying. 

Once they had some distance between each other, things would go back to normal. 

...Right? 

Then why did Louis want to _close_ the distance between them even more? 

Louis took a step forward, so close to Harry now that he could feel the body heat radiating off him, only a few inches left separating their bodies. He looked up at those green, green eyes while chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to make sense of his thoughts. 

He let his eyes trail up to Harry’s soft hair, wind-blown and extra bouncy from spending the past few hours in the truck, down to his high cheekbones and his sharp jaw line. Louis followed the line of his neck down to his collarbones, the soft white tee blocking him from getting a good view, over to the two pebbled nipples he could see poking through the fabric. 

Their eyes met again, Harry now visibly chewing on his bottom lip, his breath catching ever so slightly before Harry finally said, “Fuck it” and quickly closed the gap between them by crashing their lips together. Fireworks shot off in Louis head, a spark of electricity zapping up his spine as his hands went to both sides of Harry’s jaw, tilting his head to the side and kissing him back with all his might. 

Louis whimpered quietly, Harry’s big palms flat against Louis’ hips, his thumbs digging into the front of them. Louis’ hand travelled up the back of Harry’s neck and into his hair as their lips continued to suck against each other, both of their eyes shut tightly.

Harry slowly pulled back, Louis’ eyes blinking open as their lips parted, pulling back just enough to breathe hot air over each other’s lips, Louis’ heart thudding loudly in his chest. Louis swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, which was tingly already from their short kiss, then slowly let his shaking palms rest against Harry’s broad shoulders.

They looked at each other silently, the only sounds coming from their labored breathing. 

“Shit,” Harry whispered, his gaze flicking down to Louis’ lips before meeting his eyes again. “Did I--fuck--did I just read that completely wrong?” he asked, his voice sounding pained but his hands still holding tightly onto Louis’ hips. Louis looked at him, at the worried expression that covered his face, then looked down at where his thumbs were digging into his hip bones. Harry’s hands instantly lightened, his touch now feather-soft on Louis. 

Louis opened his mouth, but no words came out. 

Harry’s face fell, his hands letting go of Louis’ hips altogether, causing a surge of panic to rise through Louis. 

Louis quickly slid his hand back up around Harry’s neck, gripping tightly and using it to pull them back together, his lips crashing into Harry’s plush ones with a bit too much force. Harry moaned into the kiss, his hands going back to Louis’ hips and gently taking a step forward, crowding Louis up against the door until his back touched it. 

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders, their heads turning to the side as they deepened the kiss, Harry moaning quietly into it. Louis could feel a fresh wave of sweat bursting through his underarms, his body feeling like it was on fire from touching Harry this way again. One of Harry’s hands traveled up and cupped the side of Louis’ jaw, still keeping a safe distance between their lower halves. 

Louis slowly pulled back from the kiss, the sound of their lips separating seeming to echo in the silence of the house, and he let his head tilt back to look in Harry’s eyes. Harry’s thumb traced lightly on Louis’ cheek for a second before he braced his palm against the door behind Louis, effectively boxing him in as they tried to catch their breath. 

Louis brought his hand up, letting his fingertips glide over his tingling bottom lip before dropping to his side. He looked down at the space between them, Harry’s arm still braced next to him and his other hand gripping tightly against his hip. Louis swallowed roughly, breathing in deeply and smelling all things Harry. His pulse thumped harshly in his heated neck, listening to Harry breathe and feeling the heat radiating off his arm against his cheek. 

“What are you thinking?” Harry asked, squeezing his hip gently. 

“I--don’t know,” Louis said honestly, flicking his eyes back up to meet Harry’s and _fuck_ he was so beautiful. He couldn’t just stand there and look at him any longer. Louis slowly pushed off the door to lean back into his space, wrapping his arms tightly around the back of Harry’s neck again as he kissed him deeply. Harry groaned into the kiss, both of his arms wrapping low on Louis’ back as he pulled them tightly together. 

Louis inhaled deeply through his nose, his lips pressing against Harry’s as his arms squeezed tighter, another zap of heat rushing through his body when he realized they were plastered to each other’s front. 

“Fuck,” Louis said, pulling off Harry again until he was up against the door, their bodies no longer touching as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Harry panted quietly, bracing his palms on either side of Louis but keeping his distance. “Fuck, I can’t--think.” Louis said, covering his face with his hands and panting into them. 

He could hear Harry swallow tightly, one of Harry’s hands gently wrapping around Louis’ wrist and pulling it away from his face. Harry looked at him, his thumb rubbing circles into Louis’ wrist. Louis watched his Adam’s apple bob roughly in his throat before Harry quietly asked, “Do you want me to go?” 

Louis shook his head no. 

“Do you want me to…” Harry trailed off, his eyes squinting in thought. “Give you a minute? ...To think?” 

Louis slowly shrugged, his heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of his chest. 

“Take all the time you need,” Harry whispered, smiling softly at Louis, his thumb rubbing one more circle before gently dropping Louis’ wrist back against his side. Harry eased off the door, taking a step back from Louis’ and suddenly the fear of Harry leaving overpowered everything else running through Louis’ head as his hand thrust out and grabbed Harry’s forearm. 

“No,” Louis said, his voice panicked. “Don’t go.” 

“‘M not leaving,” Harry said quietly, shaking his head and lacing his fingers with Louis’. “I just wanted to give you some… breathing room. To think. I--I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.” And-- _fuck,_ how was he so level-headed about this whole thing? Why was Harry Styles always so god damned perfect? 

A moment of silence passed. 

“Come here,” Louis whispered, his heart still pounding in his chest. 

Harry sighed in relief, stepping forward and bending down to nuzzle under Louis’ jaw with his nose, Louis running his palms up the flat of Harry’s biceps and over his shoulders to the back of his hair again--because Louis had always been obsessed. Harry began gently mouthing at Louis’ neck, his hands running up and down Louis’ sides, his mouth sucking on his throat. 

At this point, Louis had given up on thinking altogether. There was no way he’d ever be able to focus again now that Harry was sucking on his neck so softly. 

“Louis,” Harry whispered, one hand sneaking behind Louis’ back, his nose nuzzling behind his ear. Louis squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his grip in Harry’s short hair, their hips bumping together again. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much,” Harry whispered, his hand tugging on the back of Louis’ shirt, grinding softly into Louis’ thigh and--right. Louis wasn’t sure he was breathing at all anymore. “ _So_ much.” 

Louis whimpered quietly, letting his head bang against the door as Harry pressed soft kisses all around Louis’ jaw before finding his lips again. 

Their tongues clashed together this time, Louis breathing in deeply through his nose and tasting Harry for the first time in years. Another surge of arousal washed over him when he felt the long line of Harry pressing into his hip. Louis dropped one of his hands to Harry’s shoulders, his palm sliding down until he was gripping his round bicep tightly enough to leave finger-sized bruises. 

That seemed to spur Harry on even more, Harry groaning into their kiss and pressing himself against Louis again. Louis felt hot all over, feeling as though he were drenched with sweat from head to toe. Harry broke their kiss, but only long enough to groan out, “You taste so fucking good,” and Louis suddenly remembered how much of a filthy mouth Harry got when he was turned on. 

How sometimes he physically could _not_ shut the fuck up. 

How he couldn’t stop the noises he made every time they kissed. 

When their mouths connected again, it went straight to dirty, both of them moaning into the kiss as their tongues clashed together, their bodies snug against each other as Harry pressed him harder into the door with his hips. 

Louis wrapped his arm around the back of Harry’s neck, arching into him as both of Harry’s hands slipped down and palmed his ass, using his grip to pull their overheated bodies flush together again. Louis broke the kiss to pant heavily, his cock throbbing in his pants now as Harry started sucking on his jaw again. “Fuck--Harry,” he whimpered, his hands squeezing Harry’s shoulders in an attempt to ground himself as Harry kept palming his ass cheeks with his big hands. 

Louis felt like he was going to come in his pants already. 

“Harry,” Louis whined again after a particularly hard suck on his neck. 

“Louis,” Harry moaned, nipping at the skin beneath his ear, causing Louis to whimper again as he pushed his hips back into Harry’s. “God, Louis,” Harry said, kissing his way back to Louis’ lips and Louis going with it because he was powerless to stop it. He sank his teeth into Harry’s bottom lip, making Harry’s breath hitch; in response, Louis quickly soothed over it with his tongue. 

Louis pulled back, gently pushing at Harry’s shoulders to get him to look at him. Harry blinked slowly at him, his mouth open and panting against Louis’ flush skin. Louis swallowed roughly, their hips still pressed snug each other, Louis’ cock heavy in his shorts and feeling like it was about to explode. 

“What do you want?” Louis asked, squeezing Harry’s shoulders again, trembling as Harry dragged his palms back to Louis’ hips and squeezed hard. Harry bit down hard on his bottom lip as he stared at Louis, the hesitation clear on his face. “What do you want, Harry?” Louis repeated, his whole body feeling tingly and on edge. “Tell me.” 

“I--” Harry paused, squeezing Louis’ hips again as he slowly ground himself against Louis, Harry’s cock a hard press against Louis’ thigh. Harry’s eyes flicked back to his, taking a deep breath in before the right side of his mouth twitched up into a grin. “I want to get my mouth on you. As soon as possible, please.” 

“Jesus,” Louis said, crashing their lips together again and pushing back against Harry’s hips, needing friction on his cock right away if he had any chance of surviving this afternoon. 

Harry was suddenly pulling back, his palms sliding back around to Louis’ ass while he moaned out, “Let me suck you off, please.” 

“Yeah?” Louis taunted, a grin now forming on his face. He let his hands fall to Harry’s hip, pushing his fingers under Harry’s shirt and swiping over the smooth skin of his torso. Harry shivered against him, his eyes squeezing shut as he braced his palms back on the door. “You’re so polite. Hard for me to say no.” 

“Good,” Harry said, his tone rough as he latched back onto the side of Louis’ neck. 

Louis didn’t quite understand the power position that was at play here; one minute Harry was grinding against him and palming his ass, the next he was begging for Louis’ cock. But who was Louis to second guess it right now? 

“Okay,” Louis whispered, his head thumping back against the door again. “I guess you can do that-- _whoa,_ Harry, wait,” Louis said, reaching down to pull Harry back up since he had already started to drop to his knees. Harry blinked at him in confusion, his mouth parted and breathing heavily against him. 

“I--thought you said--like.” 

“Not here,” Louis chuckled quietly, smiling at Harry and rubbing his thumb against Harry’s cheek. That seemed to finally form a blush over Harry, who chuckled quietly and avoided Louis’ eyes. “I love your enthusiasm, don’t get me wrong,” Louis said, pushing Harry gently back and kicking off the door, Harry beginning to walk backwards down the hallway. “The floor is just--hard.” 

Harry wiggled his eyebrows, his embarrassment once again leaving him. “‘S not the only thing,” he said, one of his big hands teasingly trailing down his torso before he cupped himself. Louis gaped at him, blinking wildly as he continued leading Harry backwards down the hallway. 

“Fucking shameless,” Louis said, eyeing Harry up and down, his eyes getting stuck on where Harry was gripping himself. They stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, Louis pushing Harry up against the doorframe this time and taking a minute to kiss him further. Harry groaned into the kiss, grabbing Louis tightly around the waist while biting kisses into his mouth. 

Harry’s hands then went to Louis’ waistband, effortlessly popping the button of his denim shorts before pulling back to look at Louis. “You’re sure you want this?” he whispered, his tone surprisingly soft considering his fingers were tucked into Louis’ waistband and his lips were spit-slick. 

“Yes.” Louis nodded quickly. “One hundred _million_ times yes,” Louis laughed frantically, reaching down to help Harry with his zipper before shoving his shorts down and hastily stepping out of them. Harry must have finally believed him, because next thing Louis knew, Harry’s hand was gripping him tightly through the thin fabric of his briefs and _holy mother of God that felt fucking amazing._

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry groaned, attaching his lips to Louis skin while he pushed off the wall and they stumbled towards the bed. Louis fell backwards onto the bed, bouncing onto his elbows and pushing himself up towards the headboard, watching as Harry stood next to it, looking down at him with hunger in his eyes. 

Harry then removed his shirt by grabbing between his shoulder blades and dropped it on the floor next to him. Louis was definitely about to shoot off in his pants; he had no idea how he was supposed to survive Harry even touching him again. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Louis thought aloud, not realizing he was actually speaking until he had already said it. Harry grinned at him, pushing his own shorts down and leaving him standing there in just his briefs. Louis took a deep breath in, willing his body to calm down, his eyes locked on Harry’s huge bulge. 

Louis sat up again, reaching behind him to pull his shirt off when suddenly Harry was on him again. “No,” Harry said, kneeing his way up the bed until he was straddling Louis’ waist. “Leave it on,” he said, kissing Louis again three times in quick succession. “I want you to fuck my mouth while you’re wearing my shirt.” 

“Fuck,” Louis moaned loudly, grinding up against Harry’s crotch to try and get some relief for his poor, strained cock. He was pretty sure he’d never been this hard in his whole fucking life. “Do it, then,” he said, biting another kiss into Harry’s lip and then the side of his jaw. “Go on,” he encouraged, only thinking afterwards to add in a tiny _“please.”_

He could be polite, too. 

Harry wiggled his eyebrows at him, slithering down his body until their knees lined up. Harry reached forward and slowly rolled Louis’ briefs down until his cock sprung free and slapped up against his sweaty torso. “Hello, beautiful,” Harry grinned, quickly removing the boxers and tossing them behind him. 

Louis snorted. “Please don’t talk to my dick.” 

“Mmm, but I’ve missed him,” Harry slurred, wasting no time in leaning forward and running his tongue from base to tip. Louis felt like the breath was punched out of him, his sarcastic comeback dying in his throat as he fell flat on his back. If Harry didn’t suck his brains out through his cock by the end of the night, Louis would try to remember to rib Harry for speaking directly to his cock. 

At this point though, Louis didn’t have high hopes on remembering his own name later this evening, let alone making fun of Harry about anything. 

Harry’s tongue circled his slit, his fingers wrapping around the base of his cock as he gently lifted it and then wrapped his mouth around the head. “Oh god,” Louis moaned, forcing himself back up onto his elbows so he could watch. Harry looked up at him, his sinful mouth still sucking gently on his tip, and Louis swore he could see Harry grin around his cockhead before he took the whole thing in his mouth. 

“Mother--fucking--” Louis fell flat on his back again, wondering if he was hallucinating the hallelujah chorus in the background or if Harry was actually just a fallen cock-sucking angel. “Fuck, Harry,” he moaned loudly, lifting back up onto his elbows and staring at Harry with wide eyes. 

Harry’s mouth popped off his cock, his hand stroking him firmly. “You taste so good Lou, God--I could have you in my mouth all day.” And-- _how could Harry just say that?!_ Before Louis could respond, Harry had already sucked him down again, the tip of his cock brushing against the back of his throat and _oh no,_ this was going to be over entirely too fast. 

Louis’ hand darted out, grabbing tightly into the back of Harry’s hair and pulling him off. “I’m--I need a second,” Louis laughed frantically. “Your mouth--God, I just. Hold on. I don’t want to come this fast,” Louis rambled, Harry grinning wildly up at him as he slowly corkscrewed his hand over Louis’ cock. Louis dropped the hold he had on his hair, choosing to wrap his hand over the hand Harry had around his cock, effectively stopping his movements. “I’m serious, Harold, I won’t last. Give me a second.” 

Louis should have been embarrassed, but Harry just smiled brightly up at him, twisting his head to the side to kiss up his thighs, their hands holding Louis’ cock away from his body. Louis was on fire. He let his head fall back to the bed, revelling in the feeling of Harry nipping at his thighs, willing his orgasm to hold off for just a bit. 

He had no intentions of going all night; he knew that was unrealistic, but fucking hell. He wanted to last more than thirty seconds! 

Harry kissed over his lower stomach and down his other thigh, forcing their joined hands back to the tip of Louis’ cock before slowly sliding them back down to the base. Louis’ shaking hand pulled away from Harry’s, dropping back down to the mattress to help prop himself up. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” Louis said, watching Harry gently tongue around his slit before suckling on the very tip of his head again. “You’re so fucking good at this,” he said, watching Harry preen and take him further into his mouth. “So fucking good,” he mumbled, breathing heavily and ignoring the heat building in his belly. 

“I’ve wanted to get my mouth back around you since that day in the grocery store,” Harry said after he pulled away, meeting Louis’ eyes as his wet hand continued stroking him. Louis gasped quietly, his eyes going wide as he switched between looking at his dick and looking back at Harry’s sinful expression. “Saw you standing there, all sweaty and pissed off that I was there,” Harry continued, pausing to drool over Louis’ cock again to add to the wetness he had going. 

“Harry,” Louis moaned, biting down on his bottom lip as Harry swiped over his head again. 

“Wanted to drop to my knees right there,” Harry said conversationally, his voice getting rougher each time he took Louis back into his mouth. 

“Fu-ck,” Louis gasped out, watching as Harry bobbed on his cock like it was nothing. 

“Push you up against the glass doors and pull your cock out,” Harry continued to spill filth from his mouth, pushing Louis one step closer to his impending orgasm. “Not even say hello--just pull your cock out and swallow it whole. Remember how fucking amazing you taste. God, Louis, this fucking cock of yours.” Louis didn’t even know if Harry was aware of what he was saying. He didn’t know if he was just trying to rile Louis up or if he was speaking the truth, but Louis didn’t care right now. 

“You’re so fucking dirty,” Louis groaned, letting his palm rest on the back of Harry’s head as he sucked up and down his length, his tongue swirling around on every upstroke before tightening his suction for the way back down. “Fuck, I’m so close.” 

“Mmm,” Harry moaned around his shaft, removing his hand from Louis to grip his hips instead, bobbing freely on his cock now without his fist to stop him. Louis gasped loudly, tightening his grip in Harry’s hair as he hit the back of his throat over and over again. 

“Ha--Harry. Fuck. _Fuck,_ I’m gonna come.” 

Harry gripped him tightly again with his wet palm, sliding up and down with his mouth as he went faster and faster. Louis’ eyes rolled back in his head, trying desperately to keep them open--to watch himself come down Harry’s throat. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything except watch Harry take his cock over and over again. 

“Harry. _Harry._ Fuck--fuck I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m--” Louis shot hot into the back of Harry’s mouth, Harry moaning loudly with every spurt that coated the back of his throat, Louis’ muscles spasming and his hands falling back down to the mattress. His head thumped down, unable to hold himself up anymore as Harry milked his orgasm out of him, sucking gently on him a few more times before popping off. 

Louis struggled to blink his eyes open, but was rewarded of his efforts by watching Harry suck his thumb into his mouth to get the last of his come and _Christ_ Harry was a whole other being in bed. Louis was never going to recover.

He knew he had to get his wits together, had to get Harry off, too, had to… remember how to move. He was vaguely aware of Harry kneeing his way back up Louis’ torso, of Harry leaning down and nuzzling around his ear before whispering hot against him, “Taste so fucking sweet.” 

Louis’ whole body shivered, his arms feeling like lead when he reached up to wrap them around Harry’s sweaty back. Harry Styles was definitely going to be the death of him. “Let me--” Louis couldn’t finish his sentence, but thankfully it was obvious what his intentions were. Harry shoved his briefs down just below his balls, Louis seeing his cock for the first time in-- _so fucking long._ “Fuck, look at you,” Louis said hazily. 

He reached forward with shaking fingers, his muscles weeping from his orgasm, but needing to get his hand around Harry. He looked up and met Harry’s eyes, which were already locked on his, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth. Louis finally wrapped his hand around Harry’s hot cock, which was completely hard and standing straight from his body. 

“You’re so fucking hard,” Louis groaned, watching as Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head. 

“Yeah,” Harry groaned. “‘Cus of you. Fuck, that feels amazing.” 

Louis swiped his thumb over the head, collecting all the wetness that was seeping from Harry and making the glide back down much smoother. Harry’s breath hitched, his arm muscles bulging from where he was holding himself up above Louis. 

“So hard from sucking my cock?” Louis whispered. 

“Yes. Fuck.” 

“Forgot how much you love it,” Louis breathed hotly against Harry’s neck, causing a shiver to wrack through Harry’s body. Louis stroked Harry harder, the skin rigid in his palm and Harry starting to shake above him. Louis watched as a bead of sweat rolled down Harry’s temple and onto his neck. He didn’t hesitate before leaning up and attaching his lips over the bead of sweat, licking over Harry’s salty skin before sucking roughly under his jaw. 

Harry whimpered, “I’m”--he laughed breathily--”not gonna last.” 

“Good. Don’t want you to. Want you to come,” Louis said around the skin of Harry’s jaw, using his other arm to pull Harry down further so he could crash their lips together. They both moaned into the kiss, Louis’ hand picking up speed against Harry, stripping his cock faster and tighter. 

“Yes, like that-- _fuck_ that feels s-so good.” 

“So perfect, Harry,” Louis groaned, keeping the pressure the same even though his wrist was starting to cramp from the awkward angle. “So fucking perfect. Come on, come for me, love.” Right after the last word left Louis’ mouth, Harry moaned loudly and started spurting over Louis’ fist, thick ropes of come landing on Louis’ shirt-- _Harry’s_ shirt-- _fuck._ Harry’s whines got higher in pitch after every rope of come; Louis was sure that was going to haunt his dreams for a while. 

Louis pulled him through it, his hand slowing down and squeezing the last drop of come out of his slit, Harry twitching roughly with oversensitivity. Louis could see Harry’s muscles straining, desperately trying to hold himself up and not collapse onto Louis. Harry panted, his cheek buried into his own shoulder. 

“So beautiful,” Louis whispered, pressing a kiss into Harry’s arm next to him. “You look so gorgeous when you come.” 

Harry dropped onto his elbows, his bare torso sticking to the front of the now-ruined shirt, his arms shaking as he pressed their lips together again. Louis could taste himself on Harry’s tongue, and if he hadn’t just come his brains out a few minutes before, he would probably be getting hard from it. Regardless, Louis whined into the kiss, using his clean hand to run up and down Harry’s sweaty spine. 

Their lips separated, both of them panting heavily against each other’s skin. Harry rested his forehead against Louis’, his eyes shut and their lips barely brushing together. Louis wiped his come-covered hand on the sheets, realizing that he was going to need to wash them anyway, before wrapping his arms tightly around Harry’s back and pulling him flat on top of him. 

Harry’s muscles relaxed into him, burying his face in between Louis’ cheek and shoulder, his back still rapidly rising and falling with his heavy breathing. Louis stroked gently up and down Harry’s back, letting his eyes close and breathing in the sharp smell of Harry’s sweaty hair, thinking about how he’d never smelled anything as good before. He then realized he’d said his thoughts aloud again when Harry chuckled quietly into his neck. 

Louis bit down on his smile, eyes closed and feeling content with Harry’s weight pressing him down into the bed. He let his fingers trail back up Harry’s neck and ran his fingers through the sweaty hair, gently pulling through any tangles that had formed. Harry hummed happily, wiggling around a bit when he realized his knee was digging into Louis’ side. 

Louis hadn’t even noticed. 

“We need to--shower,” Harry groaned, sucking softly on Louis’ shoulder indent, causing Louis to shiver again. 

“Mhmm,” Louis quietly agreed, tracing his fingers along the tops of Harry’s biceps and back around his shoulders. He could feel goosebumps popping up over Harry’s skin, even in the sex-humid room, and that only encouraged Louis to keep tracing different patterns up and down Harry’s soft skin. 

“Then we nap,” Harry grumbled, pressing soft kisses up Louis’ neck and the side of his jaw. Louis blinked his eyes open when Harry lifted his head to look at him. He looked up at the smiling boy, looking so much younger than he had since he’d been in Chance, reminding Louis of _his_ Harry. 

Louis whined quietly, leaning his head up to connect their lips again. 

They kissed for another long minute, their kisses soft and gentle instead of the urgent sucking kisses they shared before. Louis was finally starting to come down from his post-orgasm high, but he wasn’t ready to give up this happy feeling that had washed over him yet. He was afraid it would leave as soon as they got out of bed, which was why he kept tugging Harry back down every time he’d try and get up to shower. 

“Louis,” Harry laughed into his neck. “We’re disgusting. Come on, quick shower… then we can come right back here. Well, we should probably change the sheets first…” 

Louis groaned loudly. “How can I be expected to think of domestic things like _changing sheets_ when Harry Styles just sucked me off?“ he thought aloud, Harry chuckling into his neck before pressing another light kiss there. 

“Come on, up you get,” Harry said, pushing himself up to his knees and smiling down at Louis. Louis couldn’t help but let his eyes travel down Harry’s sweaty torso, ignoring the mix of fluids, and down to the laurel tattoos on his hips. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” Louis breathed, shaking his head slightly. 

Harry beamed. “Not so bad yourself, stud.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “How are you even _real?”_

“I’m not, actually. I was sent to this planet to find out humans’ secrets.” And-- _who the fuck was Harry Styles?_

This should be weird. 

The awkwardness of what just happened should be washing over the pair. 

Harry had come drying on his stomach for God’s sake, yet here he was, preening at Louis’ compliments and cracking not-funny jokes about being an alien and _fuck._

Louis loved him so fucking much he wanted to cry. 

He might _be_ crying. 

“If you get up now, I’ll wash your hair for you,” Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows at Louis and making an enticing offer. Harry kept on being giggly and flirty, his happiness rubbing off on Louis as he pulled him up and out of bed. “I might even tell you a few alien secrets.” 

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” Louis asked fondly, finally removing the disgusting come-covered shirt from his chest and letting it fall to the floor as he followed Harry into the bathroom. Harry pulled back the shower curtain, naked as the day he was born, reaching in and turning the dials without hesitation. 

Harry had never used this shower before, yet he didn’t even stumble to turn on the taps correctly? 

He _must_ be an alien. No doubts about it now. 

Nobody just knows how to work someone else's shower on the first go, what the fuck? 

Harry continued without noticing Louis’ gawking at his shower-turning-on-abilities. “Like, did you know that we created pumpkin spice?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Louis laughed, watching as Harry tested the water on his hand before turning around and beckoning Louis with one finger. Louis happily obliged, his eyes still crinkled from laughter, his body feeling sleep-heavy and relaxed from his orgasm. 

“It’s slowly drugging everybody and preparing them for the day we come and take over,” he said, his voice going robotic at the end and sounding like E.T. Louis snorted quietly, pulling the shower curtain shut and letting the warm water rush over them. He sighed happily into it, resting his forehead against Harry’s back while he was poking through Louis’ different shampoos and soaps that lined the shelf. 

Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist from behind, sighing happily and letting his eyes fall shut. 

“You really are useless after you come,” Harry chuckled, turning around in Louis embrace and smiling down at him. 

“Says the alien,” Louis whispered, eyes crinkling again. 

Harry just smiled at him in return, gently resting his elbows atop Louis’ shoulders and linking his hands behind his head. Silence passed between them, but the awkwardness had yet to come. Louis was content on just staring at Harry and letting the steam from the shower fill his lungs. Harry gently spun them around so water could rush over Louis’ hair, his eyes falling shut as Harry gently scratched over his scalp. 

“Mmm,” Louis moaned softly. “Feels nice.” 

“Yeah it does,” Harry quietly agreed, which made Louis slowly blink his eyes back open. Harry was still smiling softly at him and even without saying so, Louis could hear the rest of his sentence. It felt nice to be like this with each other again. To be close to each other again.

Without overthinking it, Louis rose up onto his tiptoes and pressed their lips together again. They kissed gently under the spray of the shower, holding each other close as they continued to share kisses and gentle squeezes. True to his word, Harry washed Louis’ hair for him before turning to do his own, Louis leaning up against the cold tile of the shower and watching shamelessly. 

Harry really was something pretty to look at. 

After they had finished showering, Louis grabbed his towel from the rack hanging on the wall and quickly dried off before tiptoeing across the cold floor to grab a clean towel for Harry (since they had definitely forgotten to do that). Louis blamed Harry’s beauty for making him act stupid lately. 

Come to think of it, Louis didn’t remember the last time he was able to form a proper thought when Harry was around. 

“Thanks.” Harry smiled at Louis, taking the towel from him. 

“I’m gonna go grab us some water and let Reg out,” Louis said quietly, watching as Harry stepped out of the tub and swiped the towel over his short hair, his soft cock bouncing gently along with his movements and Harry making no moves to cover himself. Louis gripped his own towel around his waist a bit tighter, finally tearing his eyes away from Harry’s cock to meet his eyes again. 

Harry was grinning at him, Louis’ cheeks flushing when he realized he had been caught staring. 

“Sure,” Harry replied easily, “go ahead.” 

“Right,” Louis said dumbly, his eyes flicking back down to the water that was still visible on Harry’s defined abs. “Fuck, how does anybody ever take their eyes off you?” Louis wondered aloud, reaching his thumb forward to catch a bigger drop of water that was racing down Harry’s front. Harry’s muscles twitched at the contact but easily relaxed into it. 

Harry just shrugged, Louis’ eyes flittering back up to his eyes. “I only want one pair of eyes on me.” 

Louis’ heart stuttered, his hand frozen in front of Harry’s torso as their eyes locked. He forced his body back into motion, dropping his arm down and trying for an unamused tone when he said, “Please warn me before you say cheesy things like that in the future, cheers.” 

Harry beamed, grinning with all of his teeth on display. “You love it.” 

Louis did.

“Piss off,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes, quickly turning and leaving Harry standing in the bathroom-- _all naked and dripping, fuck._ Louis dropped his towel by his dresser and pulled on a pair of briefs, followed by loose grey trackies. He heard Harry’s footsteps coming up behind him, so Louis reached in and grabbed another pair of clean boxers and tossed them at Harry. 

Harry caught them easily, smiling when he said, “Maybe I wanted to be naked?” 

“You’re bad for my health,” Louis laughed a bit frantically. “Please cover that monster up.” 

Harry sighed dramatically, theatrically bending all the way down to slip each leg inside the tight black boxers, his arse on full display to Louis. Louis’ eyes widened, even though he knew Harry was just trying to rile him up, so he quickly turned on his heels and headed off down the hall on his original quest for water. 

“Fuck me,” Louis whispered to himself, running his fingers through his wet hair and willing his heart to calm down. He let Reggie out the back door before silently making his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and staring at the water bottles for a second as Harry’s naked form flashed through his mind. 

He only realized he had been standing there, just staring, for far too long when goosebumps started forming over his chest from the cold air. 

Harry made his brain turn to absolute _mush!!!!_

He grabbed the waters and then stood by the door waiting for Reggie, letting the warm air coming from outside chase away the chill from standing in front of the fridge like an idiot. It was still midday, the sun shining brightly into his back yard and making the green grass look like it was glowing. 

Louis’ whole world had just been flipped upside down, but everything still looked the same. 

Brighter, even. 

By the time Louis had let Reggie in and then made his way back to the bedroom, Harry had somehow completely remade the bed with fresh sheets. Louis paused in the doorway, watching as Harry finished shaking the last pillow into its clean case before setting it gently down on the bed. “How did you even find the sheets?” Louis asked. 

Harry startled a bit, laughing to himself immediately afterwards. “Fuck. You’re like--as quiet as a mouse.” 

Louis rolled his eyes, pushing off the doorway and walking towards Harry, holding out one of the cold water bottles for him. Harry happily accepted, muttering something that sounded dangerously like _“Thanks, babe,”_ but the blood was rushing so loudly in Louis’ ears (from having a mostly-naked Harry standing in front of him!) that he couldn’t be sure. 

Louis watched--probably using his creepy stare that fans used to love to point out--as the column of Harry’s throat bobbed with every gulp of water. Harry finally removed the bottle from his lips, after drinking half in one go, before replacing the lid and setting it down on the bedside table. “And to answer your question,” Harry said, gesturing down at the clean sheets Louis had asked about. “Because I’m domestic as fuck, that’s why.” 

Louis barked out a laugh, water dribbling down his chin in the process, Harry’s eyes lighting up like they did every time he made Louis laugh. Louis brought his forearm up to wipe his chin, shaking his head before saying, “More like you snooped through my linen closet.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes, clearly trying for something close to a glare, but his eyes just showed fond when he said, “Who the hell snoops through a linen closet? That’s the most boring thing ever. Oooh, look at these ratty old sheets! Oh, how scandalous, _a beach towel!_ Is that--no, it couldn’t be-- _a plunger?!”_ Harry mocked, Louis’ grin breaking out wider across his face because Harry was just ridiculous. 

“You know what I meant, you dick,” Louis laughed, chucking his empty water bottle at Harry. 

Harry easily caught the water bottle--because he had surprisingly fast reflexes for someone who tripped over his own feet more often than not--but instead of tossing it back at Louis, he gently set it down next to his on the table. Louis made himself look away when Harry stretched far above his head, his torso stretching out and making Louis start to sweat again. 

Harry yawned loudly, his eyes popping out a bit before he shook his head like a wet dog. “Are you still sleepy?” he asked, his playful tone now swapped for a tired rasp. 

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he said, though he was positive he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. “Let’s nap.” 

“Fuck, say that again,” Harry groaned playfully, rubbing his big palm against the bulge in his boxers. “It’s turning me on.” 

He was clearly kidding--but Louis’ cock twitched anyway. 

Louis should probably douse himself in cold water before getting back into bed with Harry. 

Harry smiled fondly at Louis, pulling back a corner of the blanket before pausing and looking over at Louis. “Did you still, um…” 

“What?” Louis prodded, kneeing his way onto the bed and giving Harry a questioning glance. 

“Did you still sleep on the left side of the bed, or…?” 

Louis heart stuttered in his chest again. It was a simple question, but it made reality come crashing down over Louis and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Louis wasn’t stupid; he had been consciously aware of what was taking place between them the entire time, but hearing Harry phrase his question like that reminded Louis that they used to share a bed together every night. 

It reminded Louis as quickly as a brick wall would remind you that your brakes were out. 

It reminded Louis just as fast as the ground would remind you that your chute didn’t open. 

“I mean, I know we shared a bed together last night, but I was so tired I didn’t even realize what side of the bed I was on until I rolled over in the middle of the night and--Louis, are you okay? Are you… breathing? ...Louis?” Harry was looking at Louis with concerned eyes. Louis was aware of Harry’s arms reaching out for him but he was still frozen in his spot. “Louis, love, say something.” 

Louis felt like he was drowning, like he was being held underwater and his lungs were running out of breath, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get his muscles to move. Louis’ thoughts had slowed down, but he was aware enough to realize he was starting to have a panic attack again--something that seemed to happen more often than not lately--and he still didn’t know how to get himself out of them. 

“Louis? Hey, look at me, it’s okay,” Harry was saying, and Louis could feel the weight of Harry’s hands heavy on his shoulders but it didn’t quite make it to his brain. “Just breathe with me, okay? Real deep, like this,” Harry said, breathing in deeply enough that his whole body rose with it. Louis was blinking at Harry’s eyes but his instructions hadn’t processed yet with him. _“Louis. I need you to breathe with me now,”_ Harry said more forcefully, tightening his grip hard on Louis’ shoulders, which had him finally snapping into place. 

Louis gasped out a breath, his lungs desperate for air once he realized how long he had been holding it. There was a sheen of sweat covering Louis’ forehead and arms now, which sent a chill up his spine and caused goosebumps to appear in their place instead. Louis wanted to apologize, embarrassment washing over him so strongly that he wanted to hide away from Harry’s piercing eyes, shameful that another person had to seem him like that. 

He didn’t even understand it himself, since they had only started happening recently, but this was the first time someone else had been in the room for it. He was still catching his breath though, his heart slamming back into a somewhat normal rhythm, which gave Harry the opportunity to speak first. “That’s it, that’s better, it’s okay,” he said comfortingly, and _of course_ he was perfect and knew exactly what to say, even though they had just been joking around a few seconds before. 

Harry gently pushed Louis’ hair out of his eyes, his thumb ghosting over Louis’ heated cheek as he smiled at him, his other hand still gripping his shoulder tightly. “Had me worried there for a second,” Harry chuckled gently, though not unkindly, and Louis wasn’t sure if it was helping or making him feel worse. He was so embarrassed that he kind of wanted Harry to leave; at least then Louis could be alone to get his thoughts straightened out again. 

(But at the same time, the thought of Harry even letting go of Louis’ shoulder almost sent him into another round of not breathing. But Louis wasn’t ready to admit that to himself, even.) 

“I’m--sorry,” Louis choked out, his cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I--” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Harry said easily, waving it off and squeezing Louis’ shoulder again. 

“No, it’s--I don’t know why that just happened.” 

Harry shrugged gently, sitting back on his haunches but keeping his touch steady on Louis. “Shit happens,” Harry said, smiling up at Louis so sweetly that Louis suddenly felt on the verge of crying. His body was a complete traitor; his senses were still on overdrive from his mini-panic attack, so he fully blamed that when his eyes welled up and Harry’s smile turned into a frown. 

Harry quickly surged up and wrapped his arms tightly around Louis, a choked sob escaping from Louis’ lungs even though his eyes were still dry. He burrowed his head into Harry’s neck, tugging feebly on Harry’s biceps because he needed to ground himself. Harry whispered soothing words into his ear, rubbing his hands up and down Louis’ spine to relax him and, just. 

Louis didn’t know how it was possible for Harry to be, like, the greatest person in the world. 

Louis was an embarrassing person who freaked out over a simple question-- _a valid question_ \--only a little while after they had sex, and here Harry was, comforting him through it without question and without asking him to explain why he just went crazy. 

Which was a very good thing, because Louis honestly had no idea why he had freaked out at all. 

He wasn’t freaking out over the sex, or the fact they were… whatever this was. 

His head was still spinning too much to make sense of it. 

He just knew that whenever he thought about what he and Harry _used_ to be, it made his heart hurt and his brain feel fuzzy. Even though it should have been the opposite, because whatever happened in the past _had already happened…_ and Louis had years to process it and get over it. 

He _should_ have been worried about the _now,_ the not knowing what would happen or what any of this meant to their relationship. 

But when he thought about _now,_ everything felt right, here with Harry’s arms wrapped tightly around his back. 

“Let’s just try and get some sleep, yeah? That’ll make you feel better,” Harry said gently, pulling back from Louis and letting his eyes flicker back and forth over Louis’ face, trying to gauge whether or not Louis was about to break down again. 

“Okay.” Louis nodded, wanting to apologize for how he was acting, but before he could even get the words out, Harry was leaning forward and gently kissing him. It had only been a few minutes since they had kissed in the shower, but when their lips connected it felt like a lifetime had gone by and Louis missed the feeling. Louis breathed in deeply into the kiss, pulling Harry tighter against him and letting the rest of his panic disappear into the dark corner of his brain. 

_This_ he could do. 

He could kiss Harry all day and not get tired of it. 

Unfortunately, though, Harry seemed to be serious about the sleeping part, because he pulled away from Louis and smiled at him as he laid back on the bed, pulling Louis down with him and covering their bodies with the heavy duvet. It was way too hot between them, their bodies mixed with the already too-hot temperature of the room, but it only made Louis snuggle further into Harry’s chest. 

For right now, this was enough.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfg. Trust me, I’m screaming right along with you all!!!!!
> 
> Hi everybody! I KNOW. FINALLY. HOLY SHIT. LET’S JUST GET IT OUT OF OUR SYSTEM. AHHHHH. Okay, are we all doing okay now? Are we all staying hydrated? Good. I’m so happy to finally share this chapter with you! I know it was a slow-ass-burn, but look at them now! 
> 
> What did you all think? Are you just as excited as I am that they’re finally doing the _kissin’?!_
> 
> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments and kudos on the last chapter. I will never be able to find the words to tell you how much they mean to me! If I could print them out and frame every single one of them, without being a complete weirdo, I would totes do it. (Hi! Welcome to my crib! Yes, my wallpaper is just a bunch of Ao3 comments printed out--wait, why are you leaving? Come back!) 
> 
> ANYWAY… 
> 
> Shoutout to Wilmington for being a very real, very beautiful place in North Carolina. (Or, for the true fans, it would be called Tree Hill… shoutout to the best TV show ever.) To my knowledge, though, Wilmington (*cough* Tree Hill) does not have a boardwalk on the beach. But fuck it, this is fiction, god damn it, roll with it. 
> 
> Fun fact: a few weeks after writing this chapter I took a spur-of-the-moment road trip to NC specifically so I could go to Wilmington and see what my characters saw. It’s so beautiful there, seriously, I highly recommend it if you’re ever in the area. I also did some serious writing while on the beach, pictured [here](http://68.media.tumblr.com/4b2ddd0fc09588568e46a3ee9aa39853/tumblr_otaxnlSgUr1vra57po1_500.jpg), because the aesthetic was out of this world. This story has taken me to some amazing places. (And yes, I did blur the screen because you could totes see spoilers from chapter eleven on it. ***dora the explorer voice*** SPOILER NO SPOILING.) 
> 
> I’ll say again… I’m so happy to be sharing this story with you guys! Especially after the amazing year I had writing it! Mad love to you all! 
> 
> And one last thing... omfg Dunkirk. That's all I'll say, as I'm sure not everyone has had a chance to see it. Just know I'm screaming very, very loudly. 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	10. Part Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** pretty intense anxiety attack.

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/9b81f2e1dd69f30dcb31b6d62514f22b/tumblr_inline_otst5yZ9tG1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
When Louis woke up from their nap, it was completely dark in the room, which totally disoriented him. What time was it? Was day was it? How long had he and Harry been hibernating? _Fuck it was hot._ Louis pushed the duvet off him, blinking over at Harry--who was sleeping flat on his back with his mouth wide open--and Louis couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

Clearly they had both been sleeping like the dead. 

Louis gently removed himself from Harry’s grasp, tucking the duvet back up around Harry’s side to replace the warmth he’d be losing when Louis got up. Louis tiptoed away from the bed, gently clicking the bathroom door shut before flicking on the light. Louis squinted at his reflection until his eyes adjusted, sighing quietly when he took in his appearance. 

He hadn’t cried earlier during his freak out, but his eyes were still red and puffy as if he had been, his hair sticking in all directions from drying against the pillow. Louis splashed cold water over his face before finishing up with the rest of his bathroom duties, flicking the light off before quietly opening the door to the bedroom again. 

Harry was still sound asleep, quiet clucking snores coming from his stuffed-up nose. Louis remembered that Harry’s allergies always acted up at night during the summer. Louis tore his eyes away from Harry’s sleeping form, pausing to grab a t-shirt from his dresser before quietly leaving the room. 

He tugged the shirt over his head as he made his way into the living room, Reggie’s ears perking up and looking up at Louis from his spot on his overstuffed dog pillow. Louis greeted him quietly, bending down by the front door to dig in his backpack for his phone, then opening the back door and beckoning Reggie to follow him out. He gently pulled the door shut behind him, careful to close the screen door quietly as well before padding down the stairs behind Reggie and into the grass. 

He walked halfway in to his backyard before turning towards the house, taking a deep breath in and then plopping down criss-crossed in the grass. Reggie circled around him twice before trotting off to the other edge of the yard, sniffing along the ground as he went. 

Louis stared at his house, at where he knew Harry was still sleeping soundly inside, trying to make sense of his thoughts. He shook his head, finally unlocking his phone and seeing that it was just past midnight. 

Louis chewed on the inside of his cheek, pulling up his texts to Niall and sending him a one-worded text.

_Awake???_ 


Louis knew it was a long shot, and normally the time difference wouldn’t even stop him from calling (since he often woke Niall up because of it), but he still wasn’t quite sure how he was going to explain everything that happened anyway. So if Niall wasn’t awake, at least that’d give him another few hours to process before he had to tell his tale. 

At the same time, though, he stared impatiently at his text, willing the typing bubble to appear because _he really needed to fucking tell someone what just happened._ Even if he wasn’t quite sure how to word it yet. Louis’ heart leapt into his chest when suddenly the typing bubble appeared and then Niall’s response came through.

**Ur lucky it’s a golf day !! EARLY BIRD GETS THE WORM !!!** 
**wats up sweetcheeks?** 


What was up? _WHAT WAS UP?!_ Louis huffed loudly, scrolling up to the top and pressing the call button, flexing his bare toes in the grass as he listened to it ring. It only took a second before Niall answered, his voice sounding as bubbly as ever, even though it was still before dawn in the UK. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” Niall sang loudly. “Well, good evening, I guess. Ehh, whateverthefuck--” 

“We had sex!” Louis blurted out, his eyes widening at his own words. 

There was a long silence, crickets chirping loudly in the woods around Louis’ house as he waited for Niall’s response, the silence long enough that Louis actually pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. 

It hadn’t. 

Louis pulled the phone back to his ear, and after what seemed like a lifetime Niall finally laughed and said, “We did? Did I enjoy it?” 

And--what?

Louis barked out a laugh, facepalming at Niall’s words. “Oh. Yeah, you loved it. Right screamer, you are. Moaned me name the whole time.” Louis rolled his eyes at his obnoxious best friend. 

“I’m all about reassuring my partner,” Niall chuckled. “Making sure they know I appreciate their hard work and effort.” 

Louis snorted, shaking his head again as his hand fell back to his lap, blinking his eyes at the back door again to make sure Harry hadn’t come outside. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Harry--he was asleep in his bed, after all; he was very aware they’d see each other again shortly--he just wanted to piece together what happened with Niall first. 

In private. 

Speaking of, this was no laughing matter. _“We had sex, Niall!”_

Louis could almost hear Niall roll his eyes when he asked, “Who did you have sex with?” 

_“Who did I have sex with?_ What the fuck? Honestly, Niall, _why_ are you like this?” 

Niall laughed loudly. “I’m asking a legitimate question! I don’t know who you had sex with. The last time you even talked about pulling was… hmm, I actually don’t remember. Your poor balls! When _was_ the last time you got laid-- _oh my fucking god, you had sex with Haz!”_ Niall rushed out when it finally clicked.

_“Now_ he gets it,” Louis groaned out to no one in particular. 

“Holy shit… _holy shit!”_ Niall laughed frantically. “What does that mean?!” 

“I don’t know!” 

“Wow. _Wow!”_ And, honestly, did Niall have to keep repeating everything he said? “How was it?” 

“It was…” Louis trailed off, sighing quietly. “Amazing.” 

“Aww!” Niall cooed so loudly that the speakers crackled in his ear. Louis blushed, even though he gave off an indignant noise to try to make Niall believe he was offended by his cute reaction. “That’s so great! I didn’t think you guys would get there for a _while._ Man, you totally just threw off the betting pool. I lost by a long shot! But that’s okay! It saves me a lot of time listening to you bitch and moan about how dreamy he is.” 

“Wait a minute,” Louis said, narrowing his eyes at nobody. “Who did you have a bet with?” 

“Oh, bro, _lots_ of people. Liam and Cheryl, Bressie, Lou Teas. Lillian, of course, since it was her idea and all. Lottie--”

Louis gawked and cut him off. _“My sister?!”_

Niall paused, then he said in a condescending tone, “Uh. Yeah, mate. She’s hip.” 

“When did you talk to my sister?!” 

Niall cackled. “Mate! We talk all the time! I gotta bitch about you to someone!” 

“Traitors. _You’re both traitors!”_

Niall ignored Louis and continued, “I figured she’d be the best one to empathize with me.” 

“Empathize,” Louis mocked. Then with an Irish accent he said, “Look at me, I’m Niall and I know big words.” 

“Anywayyy,” Niall said, dragging the word out, pointedly changing the subject back. “The whole thing was getting pretty intense. I’ll have to check the board, but I’m pretty sure Lou just snuck in a win, that fucking wench.” 

Louis just fish mouthed for a while, his eyes locked on the wooden screen door of his porch, trying to figure out how to even respond to that. Finally, he asked the only reasonable question one should ask when they found out there was a bet on when they would sleep with their ex-boyfriend: “How much did she win?” 

“One hundred pounds and a gift certificate to Nandos, that bitch. Oh, and”--Niall sighed loudly--”bragging rights, of course.” 

“You guys are fucking assholes!” Louis laughed loudly. “I can’t believe you were betting on this!” 

Niall cackled along with him. “Yeah, bro! We started it back when Haz first moved to Chance. We all took it pretty seriously. I’ll snap a pic of the board we have and send it to ya. There was glitter involved, it’s pretty epic,” he said, then quickly continued: “Lou is never gonna shut up about this, _fuck._ You couldn’t have waited another month for me to win?” 

Louis glared down at his knees. “Why didn’t you ever tell me about the bet?” 

“And screw the results?! ...Ha! Screw the results! Fuck me, I’m funny,” Niall cackled loudly at himself. 

Louis rolled his eyes. “Isn’t the term _skew_ the results?” 

“Fuck off, my joke was funnier than using the proper term.” Louis huffed out a laugh but didn’t respond, so Niall continued. “I don’t know why this is such a shock to you, anyway. I mean, the timing was off--clearly--but it was gonna happen. Everyone knew that.” 

“I didn’t!” Louis protested, plucking a single blade of grass from the dirt and mindlessly rolling it into a ball between his fingertips before he flicked it away. He snatched up another blade of grass and started to roll that into a ball as well. 

“Mate,” Niall chuckled, and Louis listened to the sound of Niall puttering about in his kitchen while he spoke. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen for the last eight years. You guys never had your breakup sex, as far as I’m aware, so you’re way overdue.” 

“This wasn’t break-up sex, Neil.” Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Obviously, you ninny. You’re eight years too late for that.” 

Louis sighed, flicking the ball of grass out into the open yard before letting his palm slap down on his thigh. “I should be freaking out, right?” Louis asked, wincing as the kettle whistled loudly from the other side of the phone. He could hear Niall click his stove off and the ear-piercing whistle died down. 

“Aren’t you?” Niall chuckled quietly, a cabinet door slamming as he presumably grabbed a mug for his tea. 

“I don’t know?” Louis sighed, though it came out more of a question. 

“Hmm. You do sound oddly calm,” Niall said, pausing to take a slurping sip of his beverage. “This is not your M.O.” 

“You’re telling me, mate,” Louis huffed. He scratched at his temple for a second, watching as Reggie slumped back up the porch steps and laid down in front of the closed door. “I mean--I kind of did have, like, a freak out moment…” Louis trailed off, not intending on telling the rest of the story to Niall. 

“You wanna expand on that?” Niall asked around a laugh when the line fell silent. 

“Not really,” Louis sighed. “Just--this isn’t some bloke I pulled at the bar, you know? This is Harry. _Our_ Harry. _My_ Harry,” Louis said, his voice getting stronger with each admission, his eyes locked on the door. “Me and him, we can’t just be… I don’t know. This.” He waved his hand through the air, even though Niall couldn’t see his useless gestures. “We had sex before we even discussed it!” 

Niall’s always-cheery tone fell for a moment when he asked in all seriousness, “Did he rush you into it?”

Niall really was the best friend a guy could ask for. Even hearing the words come out of his mouth, though, Louis knew he was only asking just to ask--because it was his duty as a best friend. They both knew Harry would never pressure Louis into anything. 

Especially sex. 

Because Harry was perfect, duh. 

“Of course not,” Louis said around a sigh. He readjusted his legs in the grass, the humid air making the back of his knees sweaty even though it was the middle of the night. “I’m the fucked up one here.” 

“You’re not fucked up,” Niall said, and Louis could hear him slurp another sip of tea into his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you’re just making yourself have a tissy about it because you feel like you _should_ be freaking out.” 

“But I _should be,_ right?!” 

“Why?” Niall asked easily. 

“Because--because there’s so much history there!” Louis sputtered. 

“...And?” 

“And… we didn’t end well last time,” Louis said, huffing out a breath as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Mhmm…” Niall hummed quietly. “And?” 

“And! We’ve been broken up longer than we were even together at this point.” Louis doesn’t wait for the next question from Niall; he just expands anyway. “There’s too much history for us to just have casual sex. We can’t ever just be, like… friends with bennies.” Louis shrugged hopelessly, even though no one was around to witness it. Niall chuckled at his choice of words, but let him continue. “I can’t--I mean, I don’t _want_ to be friends with bennies. Casual would never work for us. If we do this--like, get back together? It wouldn’t be casual. It’d be serious from the get-go. Just like it was all those years ago.” 

“Don’t bite me head off, but… would that be such a bad thing?” 

“Yes?” Louis asked dumbly. 

“Care to expand, pal?” 

Louis groaned, rubbing at his tired eyes for a moment. “I can’t take another breakup with him. And if we broke up once, it’s bound to happen again, so I’m not gonna put myself through it. And I’m not gonna be friends with bennies. So, like, I guess I can’t have him at all.” 

“Lou,” Niall laughed, which made Louis frown because he didn’t find any of this remotely funny. “You’re talkin’ to the wrong 1D member here, okay? Ya need to go back and talk to Harry about all of this.” 

“How am I supposed to talk to him about this?” Louis asked, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arm around his legs. 

“You’re doin’ fine talkin’ to me about it. Just swap us out. Tell him how you feel.” 

“But I don’t really _know_ how I feel!” Louis laughed frantically, no trace of humor in his laughter. “How do I feel?” 

Niall snorted. “Ya just told me you didn’t want serious and you didn’t want friends with benz.” 

“Right. So that leaves me with nothing.” 

Niall made a noncommittal noise, clearly not impressed by Louis’ reasoning. “You’re really pathetic, you know that?” Niall laughed. 

“Yes! Now tell me what to do!” 

Niall chuckled. “Tell him... “ he trailed off in thought, and Louis could almost hear him tapping on his chin. “Tell him you’re not okay just being friends with benefits--” 

“Bennies,” Louis whispered over him. 

“--And that there’s too much history between you guys for a serious relationship. That you should have talked about everything before it happened tonight, but that you’re both horny bastards who couldn’t keep it in their pants long enough to make that happen. And! That you stole a rightful victory out of your best mate Niall--fuck, he’s charming--’s hands and will now forever be a _loser_ to Louise Teasdale, _of all people.”_

Louis rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. 

Niall continued, “Then just see what he says to all that and react accordingly. Talk. _Listen._ Communicate. It can do wonders for your relationship, I’m tellin’ ya.” Every word came out so easily for him. Fuck. He must have the perfect relationship with Lily; he should invest more time into becoming a couple’s counselor. “Anyway. I gotta go, my tee time is in an hour. Call me after, love you!” And before Louis could say anything, his phone beeped three times to alert him of the disconnected call. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled aloud, setting his phone down beside him before laying flat on his back, the grass tickling the back of his neck as he stared up at the stars. Louis replayed their conversation in his head over and over, finally huffing loudly to himself as he pushed himself up from the ground. He could totally go inside and have a _totally_ adult conversation with Harry about this. 

They could communicate. He could listen. 

Communication had been a big problem with them before, and Niall was right to say they needed to work harder on it now. Louis could definitely do this. If he prolonged it a bit by crouching down next to Reggie and giving him a nice, _long_ belly scratch, nobody had to know about it. The two of them finally made their way inside, Louis locking up the house before quietly making his way back down the hallway with every intention of talking to Harry. 

But when he rounded the corner, his eyes landed on a sleeping Harry, lying mostly naked on Louis’ bed, his mouth wide open and a small string of drool connecting his chin to the pillow and he looked so precious it actually made Louis ache. 

Communicating could definitely wait for morning. 

So instead of waking Harry up and being an adult, Louis pushed his trackies down and removed his shirt before lifting the corner of the duvet up and snuggling back into Harry, wrapping his arm gently around Harry’s torso and rubbing his nose back and forth over his chest while he got comfortable. Harry snuffled quietly in his sleep, his arm curling around Louis and holding him tighter, still sleeping soundly. 

Louis was so incredibly, royally, no-doubts-about-it _fucked._  
  


* * *

  
  
When Louis woke up the next time, Harry was gone. 

It was still dark outside, but he could hear birds chirping outside his window, so he knew it must be early. He rolled over, his hand feeling the mattress where Harry’s body had been, but he frowned when he realized it was cold. 

Did Harry sneak out in the middle of the night? 

That didn’t seem like something he would do… but he also probably didn’t count on Louis have a panic attack about what side of the bed to sleep on, so there was that. 

Louis rolled over, slapping his bedside table looking for his phone before he realized it was probably still in the pocket of his trackies, which were definitely on the floor. He groaned quietly to himself, rolling onto his back and blinking up at the ceiling, wondering what time it was and where Harry had gone to. 

Naps were so confusing. Weren’t they supposed to be helpful? Louis swore he always felt worse after a nap these days. Perhaps he really was getting old. He was also pretty sure they could no longer classify this as a nap, considering how long he and Harry passed out for. He should definitely refer to it as a hibernation from now on. 

Louis listened to the birds, wishing they’d tell him what time it was, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he stretched his legs towards the end of the bed and, wait, _did he smell bacon?_ He sat up on his elbows, looking around the room and listening harder for signs of movement, finally able to zone in on feet shuffling quietly around the kitchen and something that _definitely_ smelled like bacon. 

He looked over his shoulder at the opposite nightstand, relief washing over him when he saw Harry’s phone plugged in beside the bed. _He hadn’t left._ Louis flopped back onto the bed, a smile taking over his features when he realized _of course_ Harry hadn’t left. Harry was way too good of a person to just fuck and run. 

Louis finally rolled himself out of bed, stopping in the bathroom for a quick wee and an even quicker brush of his disgusting teeth, before he pulled back on his trackies and his discarded shirt from a few hours ago. He checked his phone while padding quietly down the hallway, noting it was half five in the morning and that Niall had sent him a few texts.

**DIDJA TALK ????** 
**Ew you just banged it out instead didnt ya ?** 
**dirty bastards** 


There was a long string of emojis after that, full of hearts, fireworks, union jacks and a couple of kissy faces. And curiously--Louis squinted at the phone--a lime. He had no idea what the lime was to symbolize. Maybe it would make sense later when he no longer felt like a bear coming out of hibernation. In the meantime, Louis just shook his head and locked his phone without replying. 

He stuck his head around the corner and smiled when he saw a shirtless Harry standing in front of his stove, hips moving back and forth to the tune he was quietly humming. 

“It’s dangerous to fry bacon shirtless, you know.” 

This time, Harry didn’t startle; instead he just turned around with a fond smile and waved at Louis with the spatula he was holding. “I’m being very careful, I promise.” 

“Mmm, smells good,” Louis moaned, his voice still rough with sleep as he slipped into the kitchen. He wanted to walk over and hug Harry, but he hesitated because _they needed to talk._ Was it appropriate to hug before they had The Talk? Maybe it was best to keep all physical contact to a minimum until then.

But before he could over think it, Harry was opening his arms up wide and smiling at Louis, beckoning him over with another wave of the spatula. Louis bit back his smile, wordlessly going into Harry’s arms and wrapping his arms tightly around his back. He inhaled deeply, smelling Harry and bacon and happiness, and decided that they could wait a few more minutes to talk. 

Maybe _after_ breakfast would be better anyway. 

Never have serious talks on an empty stomach, and all that. 

Louis closed his eyes, nuzzling into Harry’s shoulder, gently raking his hands over the small of Harry’s back and enjoying every bit of physical contact they had, all the while committing it to his memory. Just in case.

“Sleep good?” Harry murmured into Louis’ hair. 

“Mhmm,” Louis hummed, nuzzling further. “Did you?” 

Louis couldn’t see it, but he could hear the smile in Harry’s voice when he said, “Better than I have in a long time.” 

Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. “What time did you get up?” 

Harry chuckled quietly, nosing along Louis’ hairline and pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “Super early. Or… late? Depending on how you look at it? I didn’t intend to try and sleep through the night when we laid down… I think it was around three when I got up?” Louis let Harry drone on, the slow tempo of his words lulling Louis as he continued to burrow into Harry’s embrace. 

Then he realized that Harry had finished, so he cleared his throat and said, “That’s early.” 

Good one, Lou. Brilliant communication. Why aren’t you a defense attorney? 

Harry chuckled quietly, his arms swooping over Louis’ back and shoulders. Louis took another deep breath in, Harry filling his brain and making him never want to pull away. What had he wanted to talk to Harry about anyway? Clearly the only thing that mattered was somehow putting even less distance between their bodies. Louis squeezed his arms tighter around Harry’s back, neither of them willing to break their embrace yet to tend to the frying bacon behind them. 

Louis got his wits about him then, just long enough to mutter, “What have you been doing since then?” 

“Well,” Harry said, shifting them to the side so that he could turn the bacon with one hand without breaking their embrace with the rest of his body. What a multi-tasker, he was. Louis cringed, waiting for the bacon to spit onto his bare arm, but Harry must have had some magical bacon cooking skills that ensured the bacon didn’t spatter. (Though Louis would never mention it, as he was sure that would start another _I used to be a baker!_ rant). “I wanted to go for a run, but I, um, didn’t have my running shoes? So I just kind of…” 

“Watched me sleep like a creeper?” 

Harry burst out laughing, jostling Louis against him. “How did you know?!” 

_You used to do that all the time._ “Just a lucky guess,” Louis laughed, pressing a kiss to Harry’s shoulder. 

“And I wasn’t being a _creeper,”_ Harry defended, pulling back a bit to smile down at Louis. 

“Sure you weren’t,” Louis said, winking at him. 

“Get out of my kitchen!” Harry groaned, his tone sounding annoyed but the smile that broke out across his face said something else entirely. Harry gently pushed Louis away, swatting at his arse with the spatula to get him to move. 

“This is _my_ kitchen, Harold!” Louis laughed, jumping out of the way of Harry’s swatting. 

“Not right now it isn’t!” 

“I’m being kicked out of my own kitchen. I can’t believe it!” Louis laughed, rolling his eyes hard and turning to walk away when Harry’s hands snuck back around his waist and pulled them together again. Louis stumbled a bit over his own feet, then relaxed back into Harry’s arms.

“Nooo, don’t go,” Harry whined quietly, nosing behind Louis’ ear and causing goosebumps to spread across his exposed skin. Louis shivered, resting his palms against Harry’s forearms and leaning his head onto Harry’s shoulder. 

“You literally just told me to leave,” Louis said around a chuckle, squeezing Harry’s arm. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispered hotly against Louis’ ear, sending a shot of arousal down his spine. Louis’ eyes fell shut when Harry began mouthing at his neck. 

He shivered again. “...The bacon’s burning.” 

“No it’s not,” Harry replied easily, sucking gently at Louis’ jaw, causing a quiet moan to escape Louis’ lungs before he could stop it. That seemed to spur Harry on; he pulled Louis back into him a bit tighter, switching to the other side of Louis’ neck to mouth up and down that side, Louis’ head twisting to accommodate. 

“Fuck, that’s not fair,” Louis whimpered, his cock starting to perk up in his shorts. They really needed to talk about this before jumping into bed again. Louis parted his lips to say so--or, you know, whatever he could have managed--but then Harry was nibbling gently against his shoulder, and, well. Could you blame the guy? “Fuck, Harry,” Louis groaned, his eyes slamming shut again as Harry gently ground against his arse. 

Harry pulled his arms from Louis’ grasp, pausing just long enough to set the spatula down on the counter before gripping Louis’ hips tightly and switching back to the other side of Louis’ jaw. Harry nudged his hips against Louis’, the hard press of his cock now much more obvious than it had been a minute ago, and Louis couldn’t help but let out another breathy moan. 

“We need--to--” Louis attempted to tell Harry they needed to talk, but, once again, his words were lost when Harry pulled his collar aside and bit down on the meaty flesh between his shoulder and neck. “The--the bacon--it will--” _burn the house down?_ Louis couldn’t form sentences, not when all the blood in his body was rushing to fill his cock.

Then, just as Louis came to terms with the fact his kitchen would be turned to ash but at least he’d get off first, Harry was suddenly pulling away and stepping back from Louis completely. “Oh! Right! The bacon!” Harry said, faux-forgetfulness evident in his voice. Louis’ eyes snapped open in confusion and he felt like he might fall over from the sudden lack of weight behind him.

“What the fuck? Harry!” Louis groaned, whipping around to glare at him, only to find him smiling innocently at Louis. 

“Can’t let the bacon burn,” he said, winking at Louis before pointedly turning back towards the stove and starting to hum again as he went about cooking the bacon. Louis blinked rapidly at his back, his jaw slowly dropping.

“You little-- _cock tease,”_ he huffed, reaching down to adjust himself. Harry’s head fell back on his shoulders when he cackled, and even though Louis was now turned on and frustrated, he couldn’t help when his lip twitched up into a smirk. “You did that on purpose!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry laughed, grinning over his shoulder at Louis. 

Louis just pointed down at his tented trackies with a dumb expression in lieu of responding, watching as Harry’s eyes snapped down to his obvious erection, his grin spreading wide across his features as they made eye contact again. “Hmm. That sucks,” he said casually, as if he wasn’t affected at all. (Even though Louis could still feel the ghost of Harry’s hard cock pressed against his arse from just moments ago!!!!)

Louis narrowed his eyes further. Harry Styles was _totes_ gonna be the death of him. 

“You’re not cute,” Louis said grumpily, protectively cupping himself before he hopped up onto the counter, ensuring nothing got jostled or pinched in the process. Erections were so inconvenient. “I hope bacon grease gets your cock,” he grumbled quietly to himself as he gripped the countertop and kept his eyes narrowed at Harry’s back. 

Harry laughed loudly, turning to look at Louis and protectively shielding his bulge with his hand. _“Bite your tongue,”_ Harry laughed, his smile wide and splitting across his face. It kind of hurt Louis’ feelings that someone could be so beautiful. Harry turned back around to tend to the bacon, but the silence didn’t last long before he was torturing Louis again. 

“How do you want your eggs?” Harry asked, settling into the V of Louis’ legs and placing both of his big hands down on Louis’ thighs. Louis’ breath caught in his throat, blinking at Harry and letting his eyes trail down Harry’s bare torso. 

“Umm…” Louis said, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, too focused on Harry’s abs to notice that his eyes were tracking Louis’ movement. Harry pressed in closer, bracing his hands against the counter and boxing Louis in.

And then, just to continue to make Louis feel like he was going to explode, he leaned forward and hotly whispered in Louis’ ear, _“Scrambled?”_ And--like--that shouldn’t turn Louis on! They were talking about eggs, for fuck’s sake. “Turned?” Harry continued, pausing to gently bite down on Louis’ ear lobe. _“Poached?”_

“Fucking hell, Harry, you’re going to give me a Pavlovian response to eggs. I can’t chub up every time someone talks about breakfast!” Louis complained, ignoring his body’s reactions to Harry’s gentle sucks. “How will I ever watch the Food Network again?” Harry chuckled breathily against Louis’ skin, and Louis finally gave up on all pretenses and wrapped his hands around Harry’s biceps (which Louis was pretty sure were purposely being flexed in front of his face), to tug them closer together. He squeezed his thighs around Harry, his ankles digging into Harry’s legs. 

Harry groaned lightly at the contact, finally touching Louis again by sliding his palms up underneath Louis’ shirt, his dull nails scratching against Louis’ lower back. He felt like he was on fire. He also felt like he was going to literally drop dead if he didn’t get some friction on his dick, _pronto._ “Harry--” he said, starting to say as much--shame be damned--but Harry was quick to cut him off. 

“You never answered my question,” he said, pulling Louis’ collar to the side again so he could trail a line of frustrating kisses along Louis’ collarbones. 

“Your…? What fucking question?” Louis whined, trying to reel Harry in closer by the grip on his arms to get some relief for his straining cock. Harry, ever the tease, seemed to predict his moves though by keeping his hips tilted away. 

Louis was going to scream. 

“How did you want your eggs?” Harry repeated. 

_“I don’t want any fucking eggs,”_ Louis rushed out, ready to pin Harry down to the floor and grind against him like an animal. “Fuck eggs! I hate eggs!” 

Harry chuckled against Louis’ collarbones, pulling his torturous mouth back--thank fuck--and smiling innocently at Louis. “You love eggs.” 

_“Fuck you.”_ Louis glared. “Why are you doing this to me?” 

“Doing what?” Harry smiled brightly, lightly scratching against his back again, causing Louis to arch into it. 

“Making me rock fuckin’ hard while talkin’ about eggs,” Louis replied easily, dropping a hand down to his lap to shamelessly palm at himself. If Harry wasn’t going to do it, he’d just do it himself; that was how he’d gotten through the dark times over the last eight years anyway. Harry pulled back, his eyes flicking down to where Louis was rubbing himself over his trackies and then back up to gawk at him. 

“You little minx,” Harry said, grinning slowly at him, reaching down to wrap his hand around Louis’ wrist, halting his movements on his cock. 

“If _you_ don’t touch me, _I_ will,” Louis growled, his hand hovered over his tented trackies, eyes narrowed at Harry. 

Harry just stared back, matching Louis’ glare but with a toothy smile still on his face, before he finally stepped back and held his hands in the air. Louis’ legs thumped against the cabinets beneath him. “Fine by me.” Harry smirked, _that bastard._ “Go ahead. I have eggs to make.” 

_“Fine by me,”_ Louis mocked and slid down off the counter, turning his back to Harry as he made to leave the room. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you think you’re going?” Harry said, reaching out and grabbing onto his elbow. 

“I’m not gonna wank in my kitchen, Harold. That’s all kinds of unsanitary,” he said, his palm still absentmindedly rubbing at his crotch. This time he didn’t miss it when Harry’s eyes flicked down to watch for a brief second. Louis grinned; two could play at this game. “Enjoy your eggs,” he said, turning his back to Harry, swaying his hips as he walked and only pausing long enough to shoot a wink over his shoulder. “Ta!” 

“Fuck this,” Harry said, forcefully turning the stove off and tossing the spatula aside. In one quick motion, he was spinning Louis around and backing him up against the island. Their lips connected in an urgent kiss, their tongues colliding when Louis tilted to the side to deepen it, Louis finally, _finally_ getting what he wanted. Louis’ back pressed into the counter harder as Harry pushed forward, shifting his hips until their groins lined up and got the friction just right. 

_Fuck, yes._

Harry’s hands were groping up and down him, his hands desperately grabbing onto different parts of Louis’ body as he tried to pull them even closer, as if no matter how close they got it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Harry whimpered into the kiss, using one of his big palms to grab Louis’ ass while his other hand slid between them to cup Louis over his trackies. 

Louis gasped, grinding his cock up into Harry’s fist. 

“You drive me fucking crazy,” Harry growled into the kiss. 

“You’re the one--who--fuck,” Louis said in between kisses, pausing his words to suck on Harry’s tongue. “Who’s been--teasing--me.” That seemed to just spur Harry on further, as he slid his hand underneath the waistband of Louis’ trackies and grabbed his cock. “Fuck--Harry!” Louis said, his head falling back on his shoulders and breaking their kiss. 

_“Yes please,”_ Harry moaned, licking back into Louis’ mouth, not letting Louis get away. _“Please_ let me fuck you.” Louis was positive his brain just short circuited. “Wanna feel you wrapped up around my cock,” he continued filthily, sucking on Louis’ bottom lip and making his head spin. “Please let me.” 

And, really, how could Louis ever say no to that? 

“Bedroom,” Louis gasped out. 

Then, quicker than Louis could realize what was happening, Harry reached down and effortlessly grabbed him up by the thighs, Louis’ legs wrapping around Harry’s waist to keep him upright. He really shouldn’t have been as turned on as he was about being manhandled, but-- _fuck_ it was hot. Louis attached his lips to Harry’s neck, able to feel Harry’s pulse jump under his tongue as he practically ran down the hallway towards Louis’ bedroom.

Harry wasted no time in depositing Louis onto the bed and then crowding up in his space on top of him, bringing their lips back together as their hips ground against each other, causing fireworks to go off behind Louis’ eyes. They stayed like that for a minute or so, frantically kissing until they ran out of breath, only then parting just enough to suck in some air before going back at it. Louis felt more alive than he had in a long time, every nerve in his body on fire at Harry’s touch, never wanting it to stop. 

Harry pushed up on his forearms, looking down at Louis while panting heavily, his tongue sneaking out to swipe across his swollen bottom lip as his eyes flicked across Louis’ face. Louis swallowed roughly, his fingers digging into Harry’s shoulder blades as he listened to Harry breathe above him. Finally Harry spoke, and when he did his voice came out as overwhelmed as Louis’ thoughts. “Where’s--your lube?” 

“Top drawer,” Louis instantly replied and, really, where else would it be? Why would anyone keep that far from their bed? He watched as Harry leaned over, rustling around in the top drawer of his nightstand for a second before coming back with both lube and--an entire string of condoms. 

Louis cackled loudly, his stomach vibrating against Harry’s with the force of it. 

Harry’s cheeks reddened but he laughed along with Louis. “I didn’t mean to grab… all of them.” 

“Sure you didn’t,” Louis laughed, winking obnoxiously at him. “I enjoy your enthusiasm, babe, but please remember that you’re not sixteen anymore.” 

This time, Harry’s expression turned to cheeky, any embarrassment already long gone. “Who’s to say my stamina has changed at all since then?” 

Louis rolled his eyes, his cock throbbing and reminding him how rock hard he was. “Came pretty fast once I got me hand around you last night,” Louis said mockingly, grinding his hips up against Harry’s to get some friction against his cock. 

“Of course I did. _You_ had just come in my mouth,” Harry moaned quietly, attaching his lips back to Louis’ with newfound urgency, banter time clearly over. 

They made quick work of shedding their clothes after that. 

Louis’ breath still got caught in his throat from seeing Harry fully naked, even though he had just seen him the night before, but that overwhelming feeling would never go away. It never went away back when they were together--and that was before he was a full-grown, walking, talking, _sex god_ of a man. 

He definitely had no chance of ever getting bored of looking at Harry now. 

As if in some sort of trance, while Harry was busy fumbling with the cap on the lube, Louis reached out and ran his hand down Harry’s front, thumb bobbing along the lines of his abs and then down to the trail of hair that led from his bellybutton to his groin.

“You’re not helping,” Harry mumbled. Then, frantically, _“Is this fucking sealed?!_ For fuck’s sake! _Why is this sealed?!_ Do you have a knife or--oh my god,” Harry stuttered, his sentence abruptly stopping once Louis had wrapped his hand tightly around his cock. “Not. Helping. Not helping at all!” 

Louis grinned up at him, watching as Harry squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure, his hips jumping up into Louis’ fist, the sealed bottle of lube still held tightly in his hand. With Louis’ free hand, he gently pried the bottle from Harry’s hands, keeping eye contact with him as he brought the tube up to his mouth and bit down on the seal, tearing the plastic away with his teeth before pressing it back into Harry’s still open fist. “There ya go, stud.” 

“You’re a--bloody tease,” Harry said, his breath hitching when Louis swiped his thumb over the head of his cock, gathering the precum there to help the slide back down. Louis grinned wider at him, squeezing just a bit tighter and that had Harry moaning again, fucking up into his fist and momentarily getting distracted by the task at hand--

Louis snorted out a laugh.

Harry’s eyes shot open, his hips still fucking up into Louis’ fist, breathing out a heavy, “What’s funny?” 

_“At hand,”_ Louis laughed at his own thoughts, his own stupid pun, and Harry just looked at him with a mixture of confusion and pleasure. 

_“What?!”_ Harry gave a confused laugh, biting down on his bottom lip. 

“Nothing,” Louis laughed again, shaking his head. “Get your fingers in me, Styles.” 

Harry reached down and grabbed a hold of Louis’ wrist that was currently jacking him off, causing Louis to pout at him when he had to let go. Harry rolled his eyes, pushing Louis’ hand back down flat on the bed before sliding down Louis’ body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake: down his chest, over his torso, across his tummy and then finally to his poor, neglected cock.

Only then did he push Louis’ thighs apart and look back up at him. 

By this point, any residual laughter or banter had fled from Louis and he was back to being overwhelmed. He didn’t even have a finger in him yet, Christ. He might not survive this. Louis swallowed roughly, blinking dazedly at Harry, their eye contact almost too much for their current state. 

Harry leaned back up to smoothly press their lips together, Louis moaning quietly into the kiss. “Where did you want my fingers, then?” Harry spoke against his lips, gripping hard at Louis’ thighs with one hand, the other braced to hold him up. 

“You can’t be serious,” Louis groaned, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Harry, watching as Harry looked down between them, his fingers now tracing the sensitive skin around his thighs and pelvis--purposely avoiding any more attention to Louis’ cock, which was steadily leaking out onto his belly now. Harry smirked up at him, raising his eyebrows in a way that said _You didn’t answer my question._ “In my _arse,_ Harold, where do you think?” Louis said flatly. 

Harry snorted. “How romantic.” 

_“Well?!”_ Louis laughed frantically. 

“Just thought we could have a bit of foreplay, but, if you insist,” he said cheekily. 

Louis rolled his eyes to the best of his ability, given the situation. “Stop fucking around,” Louis said, but then--they were both laughing loudly. Louis squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks hurting with how hard he was grinning. _“Start_ fucking around,” Louis corrected. “You know what I mean!” Louis opened his eyes back up, his eyes going a bit cross at how close Harry’s were to his own, but the wild grin across Harry’s face only made his cheeks hurt even more. 

Harry then leaned back down, connecting their lips in a kiss that seemed too sweet considering Louis was a hair’s breadth away from begging Harry for his fingers, but Louis tamed down the rapid beating of his heart to kiss him back just as softly. It brought Louis’ frantic thoughts back down. Their tongues swept softly against each other, but for just that quick moment all the urgency had fleeted away and all that was left was-- _them._

Before Louis could overthink it and do something crazy (like insist they talk first after all), Harry was sliding back down his body and parting Louis’ legs again. The first touch of Harry’s fingers against his rim had Louis arching, squeezing his eyes shut as he gripped the bedding around him. Ready… but also not ready for Harry’s fingers all at the same time. 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Harry muttered, his lubed finger easily sliding into Louis, and even without looking he knew Harry’s eyes were locked on the places where their bodies were now joined. “So, _so,_ gorgeous,” Harry continued in a whisper, attaching his lips back to Louis’ hips. 

“Ah--another, Harry, I can take it.” 

“I know you can,” Harry said easily, complying to Louis’ request as his other hand wrapped around Louis’ weeping cock. This time, Louis couldn’t look away. _Wouldn’t_ look away. If this was the last time Louis allowed them to be friends with bennies--or whatever their relationship status was--he was going to commit everything to his memory. Every wonderful stroke of Harry’s fingers against him. Every beautiful suck of Harry’s mouth against his thighs. Every tragically beautiful or sinfully erotic thing that slipped out of Harry’s mouth, Louis was going to remember it all. 

He had to. 

Future Louis deserved one last hurrah before it all went to shit again. 

When Harry finally hit his prostate, Louis was silent, but the twitch in his muscles and arch in his back let them both know that _yes,_ yes that’s exactly where Louis wanted Harry to be. “Right there?” Harry asked dumbly, Louis biting down hard on his bottom lip as he nodded. “Yeah. Right there,” Harry confirmed more to himself, looking down at his fingers and then back up to Louis’ face. “Gonna put a third in you,” Harry said, but it hardly made it to Louis’ ears due to the spikes of pleasure zapping through his body. 

By the time Harry had removed his fingers and slid a condom onto his cock, Louis was close to tears with how much he wanted this. 

Needed this. 

It was an overwhelming feeling to know that you were in the middle of something unforgettable, and along with it came a certain amount of pressure. Pressure to make sure you were doing everything right. Doing everything your future self would have wanted you to do. Pressure to commit everything to your memory so that you could always know how you felt in that moment. 

What it sounded like, what it tasted like, what _Harry_ tasted like. 

It was almost too much to take. 

But Louis hardly had any time to be overwhelmed, because then Harry was lining himself up and bracing on top of him before gently, _so gently,_ asking him: “Are you ready?” 

Louis pulled Harry down until their lips collided instead of answering, not trusting his voice. 

Harry’s first push in was like someone poured a bucket of freezing water all over Louis, while at the same time burning him with hot lava. It was-- _everything._ It was years of emotions and desires all wrapped up in the form of Harry’s perfect cock. It was everything they had been leading up to, from the day Harry walked out of that Seattle hotel room, up until that very first meeting in the grocery store.

It was overwhelming--but at the same time, everything they both needed. 

All of Louis’ words had died in his throat, anything he could have possibly ever said or grunted in the moment seemed to flee from his body, leaving him only with--with _this._

Them. 

Together. 

Connected in a way they hadn’t been in so many years. 

Being as close to each other as two people could possibly get.

Louis was absolutely speechless; he was pretty sure he had forgotten how the English language worked entirely. 

But Harry… Harry couldn’t stop talking. 

“Oh my god. Oh--my god. Louis. Fuck. Louis, _fuck._ You’re so tight, oh my god, Jesus, I-- _fuck.”_

Louis squeezed his eyes closed, gripping Harry’s shoulders as he gently thrust into him from above, _rambling_ with no end in sight. “You feel so good. So incred--ible,” his breath hitched. “Oh god. I missed this, _oh god,_ I missed this so much. Fuck. _Fuck,_ Louis, you’re so good. So good. So--good.” Then they were kissing again, tongues pushing against each other while Harry’s thrusting slowly built speed. Harry’s hands were gentle where they held Louis, angling him just so to make it feel that much better, which was a stark difference to the death-like hold Louis had on Harry’s shoulders, which were bound to bruise. 

When their eyes met, Louis was once again overwhelmed with what he saw. Harry had always worn his emotions on his sleeve, but now-- _here_ \--Louis could see how much this meant to him, too. He didn’t know if that made anything better or worse, since all of his senses were currently on overdrive. 

Harry kissed him quickly, chastely, before he started rambling again. 

“You’re amazing. God, Louis, _you’re so amazing,”_ he said, his hands reaching down to wrap Louis’ thighs around his waist. He pressed down on Louis’ hip, changing the angle to another perfect one, his eyes flashing back up to Louis’ to confirm before he grinned and started thrusting again. _“So_ good, fuck. Best I’ve ever had. Nobody compares.” And, wait, was he…? 

Suddenly Louis was snorting out a laugh loud enough that it clearly caught Harry off guard, based on the fact his hips stuttered to a stop.

“Are you just quoting songs at me now?” Louis asked, his words coming out rough around his labored breathing. 

Then, Harry was laughing too. 

His hips slowly pushed back into Louis’, grinning wildly as he said, “Starships are meant to fly.” Louis barked out another laugh, the sound shrill to his ears, his head starting to feel like it was underwater as his body tried to keep up with all of the emotions he was going through. “She’s so lucky, she’s a--star,” Harry grunted, his smile brighter than ever, even as his face glistened with sweat. 

“Shut up, oh my god,” Louis laughed loudly.

Harry, perfect Harry, pressed harder into Louis again before grunting out in between slaps of their hips, “Never gonna--give you--up. Never gonna--” 

Louis squeezed his eyes shut as he laughed loudly, bringing his hands up to smack blindly at Harry’s laughing face. “Don’t”--his breath hitched at a perfectly angled thrust--”Rick Roll me right now, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Harry was _giddy_ with it; that was the only way Louis could describe it. 

It helped tamed down the roaring in Louis’ ears for the moment, so Louis wasn’t complaining. 

He shook his head fondly as he leaned up to press their lips together again. He could do this. It was just them. They had been here before. _He knew_ how to do this with Harry. No matter how many years had passed, they both knew what each other needed. 

Harry knew exactly when to get Louis out of his head, even if it involved Rick Rolling him in the most inappropriate times. 

Louis loved him. 

Fuck, Louis loved him so much. 

He tightened the grip of his legs around Harry’s waist, smiling up at him just as Harry hit his prostate dead on. Louis eyes rolled back into his head, his fingers gripping at Harry’s hair and pulling entirely too hard, but it just spurred Harry back up. 

“Fuck, _fuck,_ pull my hair again,” he moaned, attaching his lips sloppily to Louis’ jaw as Louis complied and gave another too-rough tug. Harry groaned, his hips picking up speed as he buried his head in the spot between Louis’ shoulder and the pillow, his words burning hot against Louis’ ears. The sound of Harry’s hips slapping against Louis’ seemed to echo in the room--echo in Louis’ brain--and now Harry’s rambling was back. 

His words turned desperate the faster his hips chased Louis’ prostate. “Oh, fuck, you feel so good. So perfect. You’re so--so perfect.” That overwhelming feeling was sneaking back up on Louis, and Harry’s constant stream of praise was not helping at all; if anything his words were drowning Louis. He suddenly felt like he was going to explode. Maybe he was about to come, or maybe this was what it felt like to be dying. Either way, he didn’t have time to process it, because Harry’s rambled words were louder in his ear than his own thoughts. 

“Louis. _Louis._ Lou--” 

“Harry”--Louis breathed--”Please shut up.” 

“Can’t, _can’t,”_ Harry whined, lifting back up onto his palms so he could change the angle and thrust deeper into Louis. Their eyes locked. “Can’t stop. You’re so fucking--perfect. God, look at you, _fucking hell_ you’re so _incredible.”_

Louis felt like he couldn’t breathe--couldn’t look away from where Harry was staring at him so intently. He could see beads of sweat dripping off Harry’s hairline now, rushing down his face like he was running a marathon, all the while hitting the perfect spot deep inside that made him want to cry. 

Louis realized with a start that he _was_ crying. 

The wet feeling on his cheeks was definitely not sweat, but tears. 

And, also, that Harry still hadn’t stopped talking. 

“Only--one I ever--want,” Harry’s voice was getting strangled the harder he thrusted, and the orgasm that was steadily building in Louis felt like it was burning him alive from the inside out. He felt-- _amazing,_ and Harry was doing everything right, but he also felt like Harry’s words were going to strangle him to death. 

He couldn’t remember if he was actually breathing, or just pretending to. 

Harry was kissing him now, and he was aware of kissing him back, but their kisses kept being interrupted by Harry’s constant stream of words. “So perfect for me, Lou. So fucking perfect. You’re so fucking fit, I can’t believe I get to do this, oh my god--” 

_“Please_ shut the fuck up,” Louis begged, realizing how frantic he sounded, how many tears were covering his cheeks. 

Harry just kept talking, unable to stop himself. 

“You feel too good, oh my god. Missed this so much. Don’t--know how I’ve--survived this long without it, oh my god--” 

_“Stop fucking talking!”_ Louis all but screamed, bringing up one of his sweaty hands up to actually cover Harry’s mouth. He had to get him to shut up, had to get him to stop rambling before he-- _before he said something he couldn’t undo._ Louis was hit with the sudden memory of them on the dock, of Harry telling Louis he was the love of his life, and Louis could feel the words coming up again now. He couldn’t listen to them. Not now when they were-- _this._ He desperately tried to get Harry to stop before it happened. 

Harry was mumbling around Louis’ palm, and Louis swore he could still hear it. Still hear it when Harry stupidly mumbled something about love. Harry’s brain must not have been functioning right because all the blood had drained down to his cock or something. That was the only reason he would ever say something as stupid as that in a time like this. 

Louis used every ounce of strength he had left to flip them, to push Harry down into the bed--his palm sliding over Harry’s wet mouth--to use all his weight to get Harry to stop moving and _stop fucking talking!!!!!_

Louis reached behind him, lining Harry’s cock back up from where it had slipped out during their wrestle, and slowly sank back down onto it. Harry moaned loudly around Louis’ palm, his hands gripping tightly into the dents of Louis’ hips, his feet slipping for purchase under them until they were flat on the bed and Louis was settled against Harry’s bent knees. 

Louis swallowed roughly before slowly pulling his palm away, overwhelmed by everything that was Harry, his stupid words and his stupid perfect cock that hadn’t stopped hitting him just right this whole time. Harry’s mouth opened but no words came out. His eyes seemed to have tears in them, too, suddenly. Or maybe they always had, and Louis’ own eyes had just been too blurry before to realize.

Thankfully, Harry finally seemed to be out of words. 

Louis began moving then, slowly at first but quickly gaining speed, reaching behind himself to hold onto Harry’s knees and change the position a bit until he found the perfect angle again. His head fell back between his shoulder blades, blinking up at the ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin lazily above them, his thoughts running so fast through his head he gave up on trying to process them. 

Harry’s hands moved from Louis’ hips to his torso, one of them sneaking up to swipe over his nipple. Louis looked back down at him and couldn’t help but smile--because even now, when he still wasn’t sure if he was breathing or not and had been one step away from a panic attack since the moment Harry’s dick had entered him--Harry was still just. There. Looking at him with _everything_ in his eyes. 

Looking so open, and honest, and… with that horrible thing Louis still refused to believe was love. 

Louis had to kiss him again, just while he could, before sitting back up properly and using his thighs to move him up down. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Harry was talking again, but the roaring in Louis’ ears was loud enough to almost block it out now, so, whatever. Then Harry grabbed Louis’ cock, which had been bouncing along with his movements, and began sliding his fist up and down with just the right amount of pressure. The spike of pleasure that ripped through Louis was enough to make him moan loudly. 

“Are you close?” Harry panted. 

Louis bit down on his lip, nodding because--right. He had been on the brink of coming for what seemed like hours now. Maybe that was what this crazy feeling inside him was. Louis hoped that was all it was. “Yeah. Close,” he said--or at least he hoped he said, he was back to feeling like he was underwater. 

When was the last time he breathed? 

“Come on, babe. Let go,” Harry was encouraging. “Want to feel you come on my cock.” Louis’ sobbed at his words, pressing down hard on Harry’s torso to keep himself balanced. Then, before he could even process what was happening, he was coming hot all over Harry’s stomach. He hadn’t even realized _just_ how close he had been, his orgasm sneaking up on him and punching out all the remaining air Louis had left in his lungs. 

He didn’t even remember Harry shooting off into the condom inside him, but he pieced it together quickly after he had collapsed on top of Harry. The ringing in his ears was deafening and he had that queasy, light-headed feeling you get right before you pass out. Their sweaty bodies were plastered together as Harry panted beneath him and Louis realized that the tingling feeling against his sides was actually Harry’s fingertips gently stroking back and forth. 

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but nothing seemed to happen. 

He tried to breathe in through his nose, but, again, nothing seemed to happen. 

Harry asked him something, his words going in one of Louis’ ears and out the other, and when he didn’t get a response, Harry gently pinched Louis’ side to get his attention. Louis heard him repeat his question, but--he didn’t know what he said. All of his overwhelmed feelings from before seemed to come crashing back on him at once. 

He had to--do something. 

He had to get up. 

He had to breathe different air than Harry for at least a minute. 

He had to find some way to _breathe at all._

Using his last bit of energy, he pushed himself up and stumbled to swing his legs over the side of the bed. This time, Harry’s words registered with him when he asked, “Where are you going?” Louis looked over his shoulder, at where Harry was laying--sweat glistening off of his beautiful chest--and Louis had to tear his eyes away. 

“Just--gonna go wash up.” 

“Well”--Harry laughed--“I’ll come with you.” 

“No,” Louis was quick to say, reaching out and gently pushing Harry back down. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion but Louis was quick to force a smile onto his face. “Stay. I’ll bring you a flannel.” He could see Harry considering, his eyes flicking back and forth over Louis’ features trying to determine where his head was at. 

And, like, really--good luck with that, bro, because Louis had no fucking idea himself. 

Finally, he relaxed back into the bed, an easy smile coming on his face when he said, “Hurry back.” 

“Will do,” Louis said, then quickly stood from the bed and rushed into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, which was pretty ridiculous considering he could feel Harry’s eyes on him, but once the door was closed he backed away from it as if he had been burned. 

He shouldn’t have allowed them to go this far. 

At least last night he could blame the fact that he hadn’t had time to think it through yet. 

This morning, he had no excuse. 

Other than the fact that he was a fucking idiot. 

Before, he had thought it would be worth it for Future Louis. But he was quickly realizing that no, _this was definitely not worth it._ How was he ever supposed to get over Harry now? How was anything in life supposed to matter after this? 

Louis’ head was spinning, his eyes blurring so much that he had to actually reach out and grab a hold of the sink to steady himself. He was aware of his lungs begging for air--his body had a pesky habit of _forgetting how to breathe_ \--and when he tried to suck in a gulp of air, he felt only the tiniest flow of air actually make it past his windpipe. 

Maybe he was going to finally pass out. 

Maybe he’d crack his head on the sink and then never have to deal with this situation at all. 

Fat teardrops landed on his forearm and it was only then he realized he was back to crying. Or--had he ever really stopped? Surely Harry wouldn’t have let him come in here alone if he had still been crying. He must have started up again at some point. His lungs, now even tighter than before, made a terrible gasping noise this time when he tried to breathe, echoing against the tiles of the bathroom. 

Fuck. _Fuck._

He was _actually_ going to pass out. 

He was _actually_ not breathing--it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him this time.

He had just come to terms with it, and was waiting to hit the floor and for everything to go dark, when Harry’s hands were suddenly on his cheeks. Louis blinked his eyes open, his eyelids feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds, and saw a blurry version of Harry. His voice sounded wonky, like someone had recorded it and then slowed it down, and Louis squinted to try and hear him better. “Like… this… are you… watching, Louis?” 

Was he really talking that slowly? He couldn’t be. 

“I...need you… to focus… sweetheart…” 

Sweetheart? Harry just called him sweetheart? Why did he do that? What did he want Louis to focus on? Louis blinked his slow-moving eyes and squinted some more, trying his best to pay attention while he had no oxygen, and it finally clicked that Harry was asking him to breathe. 

Oh. That was silly. Louis could do that.

Louis gasped loudly as oxygen rushed back into his lungs, his chest loosening and his arms tingling as air rushed its way back through his body. When Harry spoke this time, it was no longer ridiculously slow. “There you go, love. That’s it. Just like that. Let’s do it again, yeah?” he said, and squeezed Louis’ shoulders tightly as they both breathed in deeply through their noses, then out through their mouths. “Another,” Harry said as the pair repeated the process. “One more time,” he instructed. 

“Harry--” Louis sobbed out, able to talk now that he was breathing again. 

“Shh, it’s okay, come here,” Harry said, pulling Louis into him and wrapping his arms protectively around his back. Louis’ hands scrabbled against Harry’s naked back--it dawned on him then that they were both still fully naked--but he was too overwhelmed to even feel embarrassed when he started sobbing into Harry’s neck. “That’s it, let it out, sweetheart. You’re okay, you’re doing okay.”

And--how was it even possible that Harry was, just. Perfect. 

It made Louis cry harder. 

Louis’ legs felt like jelly, and they must have been trembling, because without letting go or pushing Louis away, Harry had them sitting down on the floor against the tub in no time. He pulled Louis up into his lap, and Louis was just pathetic enough to go willingly. He couldn’t understand why these stupid attacks kept happening, and how he had been able to live the first twenty-nine years of his life without them. 

Now it was a common occurrence to suddenly lose the ability to breathe. 

Louis tightened his hold on Harry’s neck, Harry rubbing soothing circles into Louis’ back and sides, whispering gentle words into his ear and letting him continue to cry disgustingly into his chest. Louis was normally such a silent crier, but right now he sounded like a scorned child. Harry’s fingers stroked through Louis’ matted hair, gently prying Louis’ face away from his chest and blinking sadly at the crying boy in his lap. 

“Please don’t cry,” Harry finally whispered, wiping away Louis’ tears even though it was useless; they were just replaced instantly. Louis squeezed his eyes shut, his forearms wrapped around the top of Harry’s shoulders as he let his chin fall to his chest. He refused to open his eyes, even when Harry began kissing the tears right off his cheeks. 

Louis was being selfish by letting Harry do this, especially when he knew what was going to happen next. 

Harry’s lips gently pressed against Louis’ mouth and that finally had him opening his eyes again. He pressed back into the kiss once, before pulling away and looking at Harry through his tear-filled eyes. He shook his head, “Harry. I”--he kept shaking his head--”I don’t. I’m sorry, I don’t want to be acting this way--” 

“Hey, stop that,” Harry said softly, wiping another tear off Louis’ cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.” 

“No, I _do,”_ Louis insisted, shaking his head again. “We just. And then I just.” He wasn’t speaking in full sentences, but he was sure Harry got it. Because Harry was perfect. “I’m so fucking embarrassing,” Louis laughed self-deprecatingly. He dropped the hold he had around Harry just long enough to wipe at his face with his palms, wishing more than anything he could _stop fucking crying_ so they could at least have an adult conversation about their relationship. 

“You never have to be embarrassed with me,” Harry finally said, casual as ever as he smiled softly at Louis. His back was leaned up against the tub, his arse sat on (what had to be) the cold tile floor, his lap full of this hysteric version of Louis and yet, when Louis looked at him, naked as the day he was born, his heart ached with how perfect he was. 

Always so understanding. Always so willing to let Louis be his dramatic self. 

So patient, and willing and waiting to help in any situation at the drop of a hat.

Sitting here, comforting a hysterical Louis without even knowing why. Without questioning why. 

He had somehow known that Louis was slowly dying on the other side of the closed door and had burst in to save the day, got Louis to breathe again, to focus again, to settle the ever-rising panic in his body, and just _breathe_ with Harry. 

Perfect Harry. 

Who after eight _horrible_ years was back here. Naked. Wiping Louis’ tears away and calling him _sweetheart._ It was too much. Louis had to say something now, or he might be stupid enough to let Harry stomp all over his heart again. 

“I can’t go through this again, Harry,” Louis choked out, his voice hoarse and his bloodshot eyes blinking sadly at Harry. 

Harry frowned. “You don’t have any control over it, babe. It’s--like. I think it’s anxiety? That’s the proper word for it? But, like, it happens to a lot of people, so--” 

“No, I mean...” Louis said, cutting him off with a shake of his head, realizing that Harry misunderstood him. He took a deep breath in through his nose. ”I can’t do _this_ again. You and me.”

Silence washed over the two of them, Harry’s head tilting slightly as he processed Louis’ words, a deep frown set on his face. His lips parted to say something, but Louis had to keep talking before Harry said anything else. 

“You ‘n me, Harry, whatever this is--or, like, whatever it’s becoming-- _I just can’t._ I have to think about myself this time. I have to protect myself this time. Nothing can ever be casual between us! I mean, _look around you._ Look what we just did. Look how we’ve been acting over the last month. Look how much we’ve already fucked up!” Louis’ voice was steadily rising. He hadn’t moved from Harry’s lap, but his hands were now protectively held to his own chest, as if he could physically shield his heart away from him. 

Harry’s hands gently stroked up and down Louis’ back as he listened, but his expression stayed mostly neutral. Louis was pretty sure Harry’s calm demeanor was only aiding his voice in becoming more and more frantic. 

Louis was also pretty sure he was yelling now when he continued, “I see where this is going, and it’s--it’s straight into _something,_ just like the first time! It will be great and then--then it won’t be! But I won’t survive another breakup, Harry, I just won’t. I was younger and stronger back then. Look at me now. I’m old, and weak, and can’t even go a fuckin’ day without having a god damned _anxiety_ attack over something and I just--I _can’t_ do it!” Louis was roughly shaking his head again, his eyes darting around Harry’s face as he just… listened. _Fucking say something!!!_ “Okay?!” 

Harry, bless his heart, was being so patient with Louis. 

He was listening intently, and Louis could see under his calm expression that he really was taking in every word, but he wasn’t pulling away or getting mad at Louis. He wasn’t rushing him to finish his thoughts. He was just sitting there, on the cold tile, listening. Rubbing Louis’ back, gently stroking his hair and petting his face, and all the while Louis felt like he was going to explode. 

A humorless laugh bubbled up out of Louis’ lungs before he buried his face in his hands. He felt Harry press a kiss to his palms and down his wrist before he went back to stroking up and down Louis’ goosebump-covered back. “Fucking hell,” Louis mumbled into his fist, then scrubbed his fingers down his face. He blinked at Harry. “Can you just. Can you just be mad or something?” 

Harry just smiled softly at him. 

“Harrrry,” Louis groaned loudly, letting his head fall into Harry’s chest with a soft _thud._ He squeezed his eyes shut, his forehead digging into Harry’s sternum, breathing in deeply before looking back up at him. Louis finally shook his head before pushing himself up off of Harry’s lap on shaky legs, his knees cracking out from how long they had been huddled there on the floor. 

He took a hesitant step towards the sink as Harry pushed up off the floor, pointedly avoiding the mirror (and Harry’s reflection) as he turned the tap on and splashed cold water over his face. 

As he used a towel to dry off his face, he shook his head at how ridiculous it was that they were having this one-sided conversation while they were both stark naked, both of their soft cocks just hanging out while they had _the_ conversation that would change everything about their newfound relationship. 

Another humorless laugh came out of Louis’ lungs as he leaned back against the sink, watching as Harry casually leaned against the shower across the room and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression still soft when he finally met his eyes again. Louis ran his hands through his hair, glad that they at least had some breathing room between them, but he really wished Harry would fucking say something. 

When Louis spoke this time, he was much calmer. “Harry, you and me… we can never be just casual. Casual is something I can never give you, and--I’m not asking for it. I don’t want casual. I’ve--I’ve never wanted casual with you. But, at the same time, you can’t ask someone in the beginning of a relationship to never break up with you, because that’s not how things work. So I can’t ask you for a serious relationship, either... because like I said: _I won’t survive_ another breakup. That leaves us with noth--”

Harry abruptly cut Louis’ speech off, after being silent for what felt like hours. _“That’s_ what all this is about?” he asked, pushing off the shower and suddenly crowding into Louis’ space. It all happened so fast that Louis’ jaw still hadn’t shut from where he had been mid-sentence. 

“I--” Louis fish-mouthed at him, not knowing how to respond to that. 

Harry grabbed onto both of Louis’ shoulders, his eyes locked on his. “This whole speech. That was you trying tell me you’re _scared_ of another relationship? Because we _might_ break up?” 

“I’m not scared, Harry,” Louis said firmly, not breaking the eye contact. “I’m _telling you,_ that I know for a _fact,_ I won’t make it through another breakup.” 

“Okay?” Harry asked, confusion set on his face. 

Louis fish-mouthed again, momentarily lost for words at Harry’s reaction. “Right… so because we’re not children anymore,” Louis laughed darkly, “and this isn’t hushed promises in an X-Factor bunk… I’m not asking you to never leave me. Because I can’t ask you for that. It’s not fair--it wouldn’t be fair to anyone. It’s--it’s too much pressure to put on the beginning of a relationship, and--” 

_“Louis,”_ Harry said sternly, his name coming out so strongly, mixed with a firm squeeze of both of Harry’s hands against Louis’ shoulder. Louis’ jaw snapped shut, startled by Harry’s intensity. Their eyes locked on each other’s, Harry’s eyes seeming to be searching for something before he gently shook his head, a small puff of air leaving his lungs. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip before he said, in the most sincere voice Louis had ever heard him use, “Baby, I’ll _never_ leave you.” 

“Harry!” Louis squeaked. “You--you can’t just say that!” 

“I’m not just sayin’ that,” Harry replied firmly, cupping Louis’ cheeks with both hands and forcing him to look at him. “If there’s anything in this life that I’m _absolutely certain_ of, it’s that now that I have you back, I’m never letting you go again,” he said, as his thumb stroked over the top of Louis’ cheeks. Louis swallowed roughly, his mouth held firmly shut, trying to process everything Harry was saying.

“Harry--” Louis tried again, but Harry was quick to cut him off by gently pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. 

He pulled back just enough to whisper against Louis’ lips, “You’re it for me, Louis Tomlinson. Plain and simple.” 

“Haz,” Louis tried this time, his voice squeaky with all of the emotions ready to pour out of him. He gripped onto Harry’s elbows just for something to hold onto. 

“I’ve known you’re it for me since I was a stupid sixteen-year boy, pissing all over your shoes in the X-Factor toilet.” Louis sobbed out a laugh, his eyes clouded with tears that desperately wanted to fall. Harry ducked down to meet his eyes again. “And I know that we got lost along the way, but--my feelings for you have never, _ever_ changed, babe. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. Even--even back then, when I made that horrible choice of walking out. I--” Harry paused, his tongue clicking against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t stop loving you.” 

“Harry,” Louis sobbed. 

“It’s true,” Harry said, his voice finally cracking. Louis bit down on his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Harry’s hands fell to Louis’ waist and Louis realized Harry was waiting for some sort of reply, but he didn’t trust his voice. Thankfully, Harry pressed on. “I told you back at the lake that you’re still the love of my life and I _meant_ that, Lou. I told you that no version of myself has ever stopped loving you, _and I meant that._ I know it’s been a long time and we--obviously have lived separate lives during that time, but. Louis.” Harry paused, shaking his head slightly. “You’ve _always_ been it for me. Always. Nobody has ever even come close to you. You’re the only thing I’ve wanted since I was _sixteen years old.”_

How was Louis ever supposed to respond to that? 

Louis just looked at Harry, his mouth hung open with all the words he wanted to say, but, _how does anybody respond to that?_

Harry smiled gently at him, rubbing his hands down Louis’ arms. “I also told you that day that I wasn’t asking you for anything, and... I’m still not. I don’t want to force you into anything. I don’t want to force you back into a relationship when--when you clearly have your hesitations. I want _you_ to make that decision, because”--he chuckled, pausing for a second before continuing”--babe, I’m a sure thing. You have me. Whenever you’re ready, _if_ you’re ever ready… I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for the rest of my life if I have to.” 

Louis let out a rough sob, burying his face in his hands for a moment before looking back up at Harry. 

“I--I don’t know what to say,” Louis said, tears burning at his eyes, overwhelmed and--frankly--in awe that Harry could somehow craft such a perfect, rom-com worthy confession of love at the drop of a hat. 

How was it possible that this rom-com-character-come-to-life was _here,_ professing his love for _Louis._

He just didn’t know how that happened, considering his luck was absolute shit in every other aspect of life. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry said gently, smiling at Louis and softly shrugging one shoulder. 

“What happens if we don’t work?” Louis whispered. 

Harry took a deep breath in, letting the air puff out of his mouth as he looked down just long enough to locate one of Louis’ hands. He brought it up between them, cradling it in between his big palms, their eyes locking again. “I know I let you down last time,” he said, his words coming out slowly this time. “I know I made you promises that I didn’t keep. I’ve had to live with that knowledge for the past eight years and, I can tell you, that after thinking that I’ve lost you forever, I _wouldn’t_ be able to walk out on you again, Lou. _I promise you._ I promise you with everything I have. Everything I could ever have.” 

Louis sniffled, bringing up his free hand to wipe at the tears that had snuck out. 

“But what if I’m the one who messes it up?” Louis choked out. “You’re--you’re saying all these perfect things and being _so,_ so sweet, Harry, but--you’re forgetting that I’m the fucked-up one here. What happens when I fuck us all up?” 

“Lou--” Harry started, and Louis knew by his tone of voice he was just going to focus on the fact Louis had insulted himself, so he continued on. 

“I’m serious,” Louis said, his tone firm but hardly above a whisper. “I’m--I’m not good enough for you, Harry.” 

“Baby,” Harry whispered, shaking his head with disbelief. “You’re _perfect_ for me.” 

Louis whimpered quietly. “How can you say that? After all that’s happened?” 

“Because--would you punch me if I said you light up my world like nobody else?” 

_“Harry,”_ Louis said, not an ounce of humor in his voice. “I’m not fucking around! This isn’t funny!” 

“I know! I know, I’m sorry, it was literally just… the first thing that came to mind.” Harry blinked his eyes harshly, shaking himself out a bit. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat. “Erm… I can say you’re perfect for me, because I just. I…” Harry was fumbling for his words now, and a twisted part inside of Louis took joy in it, because at least now Harry’s frustratingly calm demeanor had been shook. “There’s nobody else in the world like you, Lou. You _get_ me. You know how I work. You know what I need before I do. You’re just--everything that I want in life.” 

“I’m horrible for you, Harry. Look at all I’ve put you through. Look at what I’m putting you through right now! Jesus Christ, you whip out these amazing speeches and say such wonderful things and look at me! I’m making you miserable already!” 

“Babe,” Harry chuckled this time, smiling up at Louis. “You’re not making me miserable. I said I wanted this to be your decision. I figured that would come with a few questions attached.” 

Louis just looked at him, his hands shaking where they dangled uselessly at his side. He hesitantly reached out to grab Harry’s hip, mostly just to ground himself and make sure he wasn’t going to pass out before this conversation was over. 

“How do you know it will be different from last time? Because if you remember, we didn’t exactly plan on breaking up when we first got together…” Louis said, hardly above a whisper, avoiding Harry’s eyes by focusing on his butterfly tattoo.

“It’s entirely different,” Harry replied easily. “Everything is different. We’re older, we’re not under the spotlight anymore, there’s nobody sneaking around trying to expose us to--to whoever.” Harry gently tucked a piece of Louis’ fringe back behind his ear. “We don’t have to hide from anybody ever again, as long as you don’t want to. Lou, sweetheart, _everything_ is different.” 

“But we’re still the same people,” Louis retorted pathetically. 

Harry huffed quietly, but not unkindly. “No, we’re not.” 

“I’m still that same immature little brat that I was back then. I’m just--just _physically_ older now.” 

Harry seemed to consider it for a second, before slowly shrugging. “I don’t agree, but--if you feel that way, then just know that I’m _still here_ telling you that you’re perfect for me. And that I’m not going anywhere. Ever again. So even if you are some _immature little brat,”_ he echoed, “...I still choose you.” 

“Harry,” Louis looked down, biting his lip, shivering slightly not only from the chill in the air, but all of Harry’s kind words. He could feel the fight draining out of him, finding it harder to remember why he was fighting this at all, not when Harry kept saying such beautiful things to him.

“Come on,” Harry urged gently. “What else? Now’s the time to voice your concerns,” he said quietly. 

Louis looked back up, still biting his lip, trying to figure out what was left. 

“What if I push you away?” 

“You can try,” Harry easily replied. 

“What if I succeed?” 

“You won’t.” 

“...Hypothetically.” 

Harry sighed, frustrated yet still so patient, his eyes flicking up to the ceiling in thought for a moment before meeting Louis’ again. _“Hypothetically,_ if you were to _somehow_ push me away, it would only last for a couple of hours until I remembered how fucking miserable my life is without you. Then I’d come running right back, tail between my legs.” 

Louis sighed, gently removing his hand from Harry’s grip so that he could rub at his tired eyes. He blinked back at Harry, looking over his features for a moment before reaching out and grabbing his hand again. That brought the tiniest hint of a smile back to Harry’s face.

“What if it’s not the same?” Louis whispered. 

Harry paused. “...How so?” 

“Like…” Louis sighed. “What if _we’re_ not the same. What if we do all this and then a few weeks from now we realize it’s just, _not the same?_ What if it’s all in the chase? Wanting what we can’t have?” 

Harry considered for a moment, and Louis honestly loved him so fucking much for taking this seriously and not just brushing Louis off. For being so god damned patient and wonderful while Louis kept pushing. _Always pushing._

“Does it feel different, Lou?” 

Louis didn’t have to think about his reply. “No.” 

“Has it felt different at all? This whole time?” 

“No,” he whispered. 

“It feels exactly the same, dunnit?” Harry smiled. 

Louis bit back his grin, the last remaining bit of fight running out of him. “Yeah.” 

“So… let’s cross that bridge if we get there. But, I can tell you that I’ve been crazy about you since the moment I saw you in the Pig Wig and that feeling hasn’t gone away yet. Even after everything that’s happened today--and yesterday--I still feel just as crazy about you. Maybe more, if we’re being honest,” he said, and--his words just came out so easily. It was impossible to believe he was telling him anything other than the truth, because he wasn’t hesitating or pausing to think up lie after lie. The words were just flowing out of him, in a pace faster than he usually talked. 

Perfect Harry. 

Always knowing exactly what Louis needed to hear. Knowing exactly what to do. 

“Harry?” Louis whispered, waiting for their eyes to meet again. 

“Yeah, babe?” he whispered back. 

“I love you.” 

Harry smiled softly at him. “I love you, too.” 

And--like-- _it should probably be a bigger moment than that._

But at the same time, it was the next rational thing to do, because Louis had been in love with Harry since he was eighteen years old. Harry had already confessed his love for Louis in every way possible, and despite Louis’ hesitancy, he’d been standing in the bathroom with him for almost an hour-- _completely naked!!!!_ \--still talking this out with him, but not pressuring him at all. 

Not asking for anything in return. 

Because he loved him. 

Because Louis loved him, too. 

Was Louis convinced it was going to be smooth sailing from here on out? Of course not. He wasn’t stupid. His doubts from before hadn’t just suddenly disappeared completely. But what he did realize was that if he didn’t tell Harry he loved him right then and there, he would have regretted it for the rest of his life. 

Future Louis would have been a miserable fucking bastard about it. 

“I mean it, curly,” Louis said then, his voice still wavering but getting stronger with every word. Harry’s cheeks were flushed red by this point and he was biting down hard on his lip to contain his smirk. “I love the shit out of you.” 

“Fuck” was all Harry said before surging forward and kissing Louis. Their lips meshed together not for the first time that night, or that hour, but what felt like a lifetime. Because whatever was holding them back before (Louis), was no longer stopping them from admitting that they still loved each other. 

That they’d _always_ loved each other. 

Their conversation wasn’t over, and Louis had a million more questions he wanted to ask, but it could wait. Because after everything Louis’ put him through tonight, Harry deserved to know that _he really did_ love him, despite all of his freak outs. 

When they pulled back, Louis pecked another few kisses against Harry mouth before saying, “Can we put some clothes on? I’m freezing.” 

“No.” Harry grinned, “I’m never allowing you to put clothes on ever again.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, you dork,” Louis said, gently pushing Harry back before grabbing his hand again and pulling him out of the bathroom. He sat Harry down on the edge of the bed before he went around grabbing up their trackies to put back on. He handed Harry his, while pulling on his own pair, watching as Harry stood back up to pull them on before flopping back down. 

Louis smiled, moving up to stand in the V of Harry’s legs and wrapping his arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed him, their lips lingering for a minute before pulling back. He resisted the urge to twitch away and laugh when Harry gently held onto the back of Louis’ sensitive thighs, just staring up at him with stars in his eyes. 

“Say it again,” Harry quietly begged, his tone so quiet Louis almost missed it. 

Louis didn’t hesitate. 

“I love you.” 

“One more time,” Harry whispered, closing his eyes and waiting. 

Louis chuckled quietly, but all the same he said, “I love you, Harry Styles.” 

Harry’s green, _green_ eyes cracked open and blinked hazily up at Louis. Harry’s tongue snuck out over his bottom lip, making it shine up at Louis and seem to catch on the sun that had risen through the windows at some point. “And you mean it?” Harry asked, his tone still dangerously quiet but the smile never leaving his face. 

Louis swallowed, cupping Harry’s cheeks in his hands not unlike what Harry had done to him a little while ago to grab his full attention. “I know I’ve been acting like a complete tosser, Harry, but I swear to god... I love you more than anybody in the whole world.” 

“Good.” Harry smiled even wider, gripping tightly against Louis’ thighs now. “Kiss me.” 

So Louis did. 

Then, because Harry was a little shit, he whispered: “Say it just _one_ more time.” 

“God damn it, Styles,” Louis laughed into the kiss. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” 

Harry flopped happily onto his back, his arms stretching above his head as he squealed quietly, not unlike something else from a horrible rom-com. He even wiggled around a bit, his giddiness infectious and making Louis’ heart melt into a pile of goo. Louis climbed up on top of him, his knees going to either side of Harry’s waist as he laughed at him, leaning down on his elbows and brushing the hair out Harry’s eyes. 

“I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it,” Louis whispered. “As many times as you want. For the rest of my life.” 

“Okay.” Harry beamed, the back of his knuckles rubbing up against Louis’ tummy, his eyes blinking up fondly at Louis. “I love you, too. I love being here with you,” he paused, his fingers sneaking around to Louis back before he wrapped him completely in his arms. “I love _you,_ Louis Tomlinson. Forever. I’ll--I’ll love you forever.” 

Louis had to kiss him then, so he did. “Forever?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool,” Louis said around a grin. 

Harry bit his smile down into his bottom lip, beaming up at Louis as he echoed, “Cool.”  
  


***

The rest of the day was spent tangled up in each other.

By the time they had left the bed again, it was well into the afternoon and it was only to find their half-cooked breakfast left abandoned in the kitchen. When Louis had turned to face Harry, he just shrugged and innocently offered up, “Oops?”

It wasn’t until much later that evening when they had made their way back to bed ( _totally_ for comfort purposes, no hanky panky intended), that Louis had the mind to check his phone. “Oh no,” he mused, tilting the screen to show Harry his inbox full of Niall texts from over the course of the day. 

As Louis pulled up the thread, it was apparent before he even began reading that his best friend had _lost his god damned mind_ the longer Louis went without responding. 

He began reading them out loud to Harry, propped up against his chest.

**Are ya ever gonna tell me what happnd ??!?** 
**I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED!!!** 
**TOMMO** 
**IT’S PAST LUNCH THERE. WHERE R U?** 
**So ur just gonna ignore me forever ???? NO LONGER MATES ????** 
**?!?!??!?!?!?!?!??!!** 


“Aww, poor little Neil thought I had forgotten about him for good,” Louis chuckled along with Harry. He turned to look back at him, his breath catching in his throat a bit at just how beautiful he was lying there against Louis’ pillows, Harry’s fingers scratching lightly against Louis’ back from where his shirt had rucked up. “Jesus, you’re pretty,” he thought aloud-- _now that he could_ \--and momentarily getting distracted from reading.

“Not as pretty as you,” Harry easily replied, pinching gently at Louis’ sides. 

Louis’ flushed, but rolled his eyes and tried to look like he was annoyed. “Lame comeback, Styles.” 

“Not if it’s true,” Harry beamed, pulling Louis further up his chest so he could press their lips together in a sweet kiss. When they parted, they took a moment to just breathe each other in, grinning at each other without shame. Finally, curiosity won out, and Harry nudged at him with his nose. “Keep reading.” 

“Right,” Louis laughed, grabbing his phone back up and unlocking it. 

The next string of texts had them both rolling with laughter.

**DEAR MISTER I’M TOO GOOD TO CALL OR WRITE MY FANS** 
**THIS WILL BE THE LAST PACKGE I EVER SEND UR ASS** 


Harry snorted loudly into Louis’ shoulder. _“Did he just quote Eminem?!”_

“Oh my god, he did!” Louis cackled, holding the phone to his chest as the two of them laughed loudly. It took a moment for the two of them to continue on, pausing to wipe at their eyes from how hard they had laughed over their idiotic friend. “This is why I love Niall,” Louis said around a chuckle, “there’s never a dull moment.”

**JK IM BACK BITCH** 
**IM NOT LETTIN THIS GO** 
**IM TOO INVOLVED NOW** 
**U JUMP I JUMP JACK** 


“Oh fuck, he’s moved on to Titanic!” Louis laughed loudly, dramatically face planting into Harry’s stomach as he giggled. “It’s never good when he starts quoting Titanic!” 

Harry laughed along with him, covering his own face with his arms. “I’m scared to keep reading,” Harry giggled into the crook of his arms. “Where could he possibly go from here?”

The answer? Notting Hill, obviously.

**IM JUST A GIRL** 
**STANDIN IN FRONT OF MY PHONE** 
**ASKING YOU** 
**TO FUCKING RESPOND TO ME YA PRICK** 


“I can’t keep reading!” Louis cackled, his face buried in Harry’s stomach again, which was clenching with his laughter. “Someone needs to put him out of his misery!” 

“You’re a terrible friend for ignoring him!” Harry said around a laugh. 

“Excuse me?! How very dare you!” Louis laughed, gawking up at Harry’s face now. _“You’re_ the one who’s distracted me all day!” 

Harry squawk-laughed, but then jokingly shrugged a shoulder as he reached down to grab one of Louis’ arse cheeks in his hand. “Who could blame me when you’ve been swinging _this_ around?” 

Louis laughed, slapping at Harry’s hold on him, which quickly escalated into a wrestling match, his phone falling off the bed in their tumble. The wrestling was short lived though, as Louis knew he had to break himself away before _“wrestling”_ became _“fucking like rabbits.”_

So, like. 

“You’re bad for me health,” Louis breathed, reaching an arm down to the floor to snatch up his phone. “And you’re bad for me friendship with Niall! I feel like these texts end in a breakup!” Harry threw his head back against the pillow and laughed loudly, Louis’ eyes focused on the way his throat bobbed up and down in the process. 

_Get yourself under control!_ he scolded himself, shaking his head as he thumbed his way back to Niall’s texts. The rest were filled with emojis--most of them being crude gestures--and finally ended with a bold-faced lie.

**YOUR DEAD TO ME** 


“Ew.” Harry giggled. “He used the wrong _your.”_

Louis rolled his eyes. “I think we have bigger problems than his grammar, mate.” 

Harry chuckled, nodding his agreement and stretching out on the bed. “You should call him.” 

“Yeah, probably should, right?” Louis laughed, shaking his head. He scrolled up to the top, ready to hit the call button, when he eyed the FaceTime icon instead. “Actually… I bet I know of a way to cheer him up instantly.” 

Harry raised a curious eyebrow at him, then grinned when he saw Louis’ thumb press the icon. The screen turned into the camera, _Niall FaceTime…_ appearing at the top as their grainy image was reflected back at them. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, winking when he said, “Make sure you get my good side.” 

Louis huffed. “As if you have a bad side.” 

In the few seconds delay between Niall answering the call and the video feed coming through, Niall’s voice was already yelling: _“Oh!_ Look who the fuck came crawling out of his hiding spot! You think you can just--” but when the application finished loading and suddenly Niall was met with the image of not only Louis, _but also Harry,_ his yelling stopped and instead a huge splitting grin came across his face. “Wey hey! Look at the lovebirds! Awww!” And then, before he gave them a chance to respond, he was looking somewhere off screen and yelling, _“Lillian! Come here and look at the lovebirds!”_

Louis rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “For fuck’s sake, Neil.” 

“I don’t want to hear any of that shit, bro!” Niall laughed loudly. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for ignoring me just yet.” 

“Sorry, Niall,” Harry cooed in a sweet voice. “We got a bit, erm”--he coughed--”distracted.” 

Niall rolled his eyes. _“Distracted,”_ he said around air quotes. “Right. That’s what we’re callin’ it nowadays, then, lads?” Niall asked, causing both Louis and Harry to laugh. He then turned to look off-camera again when he said, “Aye! Lilian! D’ya want to go get distracted?” 

Somewhere far off in the background, Louis could make out Lily’s high pitched voice when she responded with: _“Oh, yeah, baby. I’ll distract you all night long!”_ which caused everybody to laugh. 

“Imma distract the hell out of you!” Niall chirped at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

“Give it a rest,” Louis laughed, propping his head up on his bent arm. 

“Go distract yourself,” Niall deadpanned. Louis cackled, Harry’s stomach bouncing against him as he laughed, and Niall could only keep a straight face for so long before he cracked. “I’m still mad at you!” 

“Aww, Neil,” Louis cooed at him. “I didn’t mean to ignore you! It Harry’s fault, really.”

“Heeeeyyy,” Harry pouted. 

“You both suck,” Niall groaned, and then, “and I don’t mean that literally, so don’t get gross!” which caused another round of laughter between the three. It wasn’t until after they had all settled a bit that Niall finally got back on track. “Alright then, lads. Spill it.” He pointed at them, his finger waving between the two. “What does this mean?” 

“It means we’re, erm…” Harry paused, looking over at Louis with a small smile. 

“In a relationship,” Louis confirmed, ignoring Niall to beam at Harry. 

“Boyfriends,” Harry added, biting down hard on his grin. 

_“Lovers,”_ Louis retorted. 

“Life partners,” Harry chuckled, no longer able to bite back his bright smile.

Louis was about to fire back with another sickeningly-sweet term of endearment, when Niall cut them off with a loud, over-exaggerated _“Awwww! Look at ya!_ It’s like 2013 all over again!” His Irish accent seemed to be extra thick as he cooed at them, his eyes big and glassy like a cartoon character. “I’m so happy for you that I’m not even gonna rag on ya’ for how disgusting you are.” 

And, like, that was basically the highest form of praise you could get from Niall Horan. 

“Well… while we’re on the subject, then,” Niall continued, causing Louis to furrow his eyebrows because he was suspicious of where this was going. “I have an announcement,” Niall finally said, coughing into his fist. 

“If you’re about to reveal that you made _another_ heinous bet against us, our call might tragically get disconnected,” Louis quipped. He grinned over at Harry, only to be met with a confused raise of his eyebrow because-- _right._ Harry didn’t know about the bet still. He’d have to explain it to him later. 

_“Heinous,”_ Niall mocked with a laugh. “There was nuttin’ heinous about it!” 

“I’m confused!” Harry spoke up, causing both Niall and Louis to laugh. “What are we even talking about?!” 

“My announcement!” Niall was quick to reply. 

“Alright, alright, what’s your announcement?” Louis rolled his eyes fondly. 

Niall’s eyes flitted off camera again, grinning when he said, “Lillian, are you gonna join me for this?” 

Louis spoke up over Lily’s reply when he blurted out, “Oh my god, _you’re having a baby!”_

“Aww! I love babies!” Harry instantly cooed. “I’m so happy for you!” 

“Niall Horan, you _stud,”_ Louis laughed loudly. “Should I start to refer to you as Papa now, or…?” 

“What are you even on about?!” Niall cackled loudly, just as Lily finally came into view. “No one’s having any babies--wait, _right?”_ he asked, whipping his head over to look at the brunette next to him. 

She gently patted his arm when she said, “I’m not pregnant, dude.” 

“Oh, thank god,” Niall laughed with relief. 

“So, wait, if you’re not pregnant…” Louis trailed off, his eyes going wide with realization before Niall could even finish speaking. 

“I got so inspired by the two of you fucks gettin’ back together, that I asked Lily here to marry me.” 

_“Awwwww!”_ Harry was already cooing over Niall’s words. 

_“Niall Horan!”_ Louis gawked, his jaw hung low and his eyes wide. Niall and Lily both laughed loudly at their reactions--Louis’ disbelief and Harry’s _incessant cooing_ \--and Louis just watched with wide eyes as Lily held up one of her skinny hands in front of the grainy camera to show off the diamond ring Niall had put on her finger. “I can’t believe it!” Louis exclaimed, letting his head fall back down to burrow into Harry’s stomach again. 

“It’s so lovely!” Harry was quick to take over the conversation, grabbing the phone from Louis’ hand as he continued to hide his reaction into Harry’s tummy. “I’m so, _so_ happy for you two!” And, really, could he just be a little less perfect every now and then? It was making Louis look bad. 

_Louis_ was Niall’s best friend, after all.

And--wait.

Louis sat back up. “Wait a minute. Why didn’t you ask me for help to pick out the ring? I’m a bit offended, mate.” He then huffed and crossed his arms in a childish pout. 

“Well, you were too busy shaggin’ the life out of Hazza over there,” Niall was quick to respond, laughing loudly and wiggling his eyebrows. Louis watched through narrowed eyes as Lily stifled her laugh into Niall’s shoulder. 

“I coulda come up for a breather if I had known!” 

“Bullshit,” Niall laughed. “You ignored me for almost a day! Couldn’t have gotten your help if I wanted to!” Niall was poking fun in good nature, because Niall never took offense to anything, but Louis couldn't help but to actually feel a bit worse than before about ignoring his friend. What if Niall really had wanted help? Or some advice? Or, if anything, some words of encouragement before he popped the question? 

Louis kinda sucked sometimes. 

He would have to apologize earnestly next time he and Niall spoke alone. 

But until then, he felt the need to pry. “So, how’d ya do it? Did you get down on one knee? Did you make a house out of candles?” Louis teased, laughing afterwards. So maybe Louis and Harry had been watching Grey’s Anatomy reruns earlier, so what? 

Niall just rolled his eyes. 

“He did get down on one knee!” Lily exclaimed with a wild grin. “It was _very_ romantic,” she added, smiling happily at Niall, who was quick to place a smacking kiss on her cheek. 

“Only for you, my dear,” he replied. 

_“Awwww!”_ Harry was back to cooing loudly at them. 

Louis patted Harry’s shoulder condescendingly. “Calm down, love. Don’t want to blow your wedding-load before we have all the details.” Harry glared at him, but his lip was already twitching with the urge to smirk. Over the sound of Niall and Lily’s chuckles, Louis turned back to his phone in Harry’s hands and asked, “So? When’s the big day?” 

“Oh, yeah, about that,” Niall coughed. “We’re, um, eloping.” 

_“What?”_ Louis let out a startled laugh. “Whatya mean you’re eloping?” 

“We don’t see the point in waitin’ really, since it’s been coming forever.” Niall shrugged casually. “So we’re thinkin three weeks’ time.” 

Lily nodded along, gesturing with her hands as she said, “Yeah, and we don’t want it to be this big _to do._ We want casual. Small.”

“Low-key,” Niall added with a nod of his head. 

“Exactly, thanks, babe.” Lily grinned. “We want to keep the guest list to about, what did we say? Ten? Fifteen people?” 

“Yeah, somewhere around that,” Niall confirmed easily. “Just our families, Lily’s two best mates, you lads, plus Payno and Zayn if they’re up for it,” he said, counting everybody off on his fingers as he spoke, Lily nodding along with him as they went through their mental guest list. 

“Um,” Louis finally said, turning to look at Harry. “I gotta state the obvious, right?” he asked him. Harry grinned and nodded. Louis bit back his grin as he said, “You realize that’s _not_ eloping, right?” 

“What?” Niall narrowed his eyes. 

“You don’t _plan_ to elope. And you certainly don’t _invite_ people to an elopement! You just go off and do it, and then tell people afterwards!” Louis was laughing loudly now. “You’re just having a tiny, fast weddin’! Use the proper terminology, Christ.” 

“Okay, _Webster's,”_ Niall laughed loudly. “This is _our_ weddin’. We can call it whatever we want, Tommo.” 

“But it’s not eloping!” Louis cackled, giving them an amused--yet confused--look. 

Louis watched as a miffed Niall turned to Lily and said, “Well, there’s one less person we gotta invite, amiright?” 

“Yup! Enjoy watching our wedding through the pictures, dickhead!” Lily teased, pointing her tongue out at Louis. 

Louis glared. “How very dare you, _Lillian.”_

“Are you gonna send out invitations for this elopment?” Harry spoke up, his dry, sarcastic question making Louis drop his head down to Harry’s stomach as he laughed. “Do we have to RSVP? I think I’d like the fish, please.” 

“Fuck the both of you!” Niall exclaimed, though laughed loudly afterwards because-- _Niall._ “Yer both the fuckin’ worst! You should be congratulatin’ us!” 

Louis’ jaw dropped dramatically before he said, “I said I was happy for you!” And, wait, _did he?_ He quickly replayed the beginning of their conversation in his head, but couldn’t remember if he did or not. Whatever. He then pointed at Harry with one of his thumbs and added, “And this one can barely keep it in his pants whenever there’s wedding talk, so, you know you’ve got him in your corner.” 

“Heeeyyy,” Harry pouted, though everyone knew Louis was just speaking the truth. 

“And here I was about to ask you to be my best man! But not now, fuck that. _Now_ you’re uninvited.” Niall glared, though he was clearly trying to keep his smile hidden, and-- _wait._ Did he just…? 

This time, it was Louis who loudly cooed, _“Awww!_ Neil! You sappy sap! I’d _love_ to be your best man!” 

“Too late,” Niall said casually. “You’re too busy bein’ a prick. I’ll just call up Payno.” 

_“Don’t you dare.”_ Louis glared. “I will fly out there tonight and punch you square in the throat.” 

The four of them chatted for a while after that, listening as Niall and Lily went over the rest of the wedding details. Even though Niall had only popped the question the night before, they had been together for years, so they already had most of the details planned out. When they finally ended the call, Louis locked his phone and placed it on the bedside table before rolling back over to Harry. 

He kissed him twice, just because he could, before pulling back and smiling at him. Louis reached up to gently swipe a piece of Harry’s fallen hair out of his eyes. “So… I guess that means we’ll be going back to London, yeah?” Louis asked quietly, looking in Harry’s eyes to try and gauge his reaction, but of course all he found was happiness. 

“Guess so.” 

“We should probably tell our families first… before we just show up together,” Louis laughed quietly. 

Harry beamed. “You don’t want to keep it a secret?” 

Louis rolled his eyes fondly before pressing their lips together again. When he pulled back, it was only far enough to speak against Harry’s lips, “Never again.” Harry surged back up then and connected their lips, his hands going to Louis’ hips to gently pull him on top of himself. Louis moaned quietly when their bodies connected, bracing his elbows on either side of Harry’s head as they deepened the kiss.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. ALL THE FEELS. 
> 
> Happy Friday my lovely ones! OMG. This chapter. Remember when I said at the beginning of this story that some scenes took me literally months to write? … Yeah. This was one of them. I shit you not, my friends, this chapter took me over three months (!!!!!!!) to write. 
> 
> Buttplay, amiright? 
> 
> Anyway. 
> 
> I absolutely love how this chapter turned out, but every single time I read it back there’s this one line that absolutely _kills_ me, to the point where I thought about changing it a million times. I ultimately left it in though, because it genuinely makes me cackle every time. It happens in such a serious moment, and there’s no humor in the scene, but when Harry says: “Just know that I’m _still here_ telling you that you’re perfect for me” my mind instantly goes to [this. ](http://68.media.tumblr.com/7c2bfc394e7b74159ff42944492b2b0f/tumblr_otqzask5Xy1vra57po1_500.gif)
> 
> Lmfaoooo yes, I’m old, and yes I have topical 2002 references from when most of you weren’t even born… but god damn do I crack myself up. Anyway, hopefully I’ve now ruined that scene for all of you as well. (Also, idk how I’ve mentioned to @Eminem twice in this update. Life is weird.) 
> 
> Thank you so so so so so much for all the beautiful comments on the last chapter. I wish I could find a way to tell you all how much they mean to me! I can't believe there's only two chapters left! I'm _so_ excited for you to read them! 
> 
> Have an amazing weekend! I love you all so much! 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	11. Part Eleven

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/51014ce21e68a5ff279fa5266327c57c/tumblr_inline_otyb7jV1WY1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
Over the course of the next three weeks, between Niall’s engagement and Louis and Harry’s flight back to the UK, time seemed to go by in a blur. Instead of dwelling on all the time lost over the last eight years, Louis instead tried to commit every single moment to his memory, filling all of the empty spaces with every tiny detail he could remember.

August had turned into September, but that didn’t stop another heat wave from rolling through town, turning the conditions outside from hot, _to hell,_ in just a matter of days. Looking back now, Louis will use that as a perfectly reasonable excuse as to why they spent so much time in bed. 

But it wasn’t like they spent _the entire_ three weeks in bed! 

They did plenty of other things! 

Like:  
  


** When They Went To The Fair:  ** 


  
  
Louis and Harry were standing in the checkout line at the Pig Wig one sunny afternoon, glad to be away from the heat even if only momentarily, and Louis was absentmindedly flipping through a gossip magazine while Mrs. B took her sweet time ringing up the customer ahead of them. 

“What’s this?” Harry spoke up, causing Louis to stop mid-turn of a page to glance over at him. 

Louis squinted at the blue flyer in Harry’s hand, working it out in his head before realization hit him. “Ah. The fair is back,” Louis replied casually, his eyes flicking back down to his magazine as he continued flipping through it. 

“What fair?” 

“I don’t know, mate. It’s just some county fair that happens at the end of every summer.” Louis shrugged, not taking his eyes off the story he was now reading. Rihanna did WHAT at a Vegas Nightclub? The only way to find out was to keep reading, obviously. Louis loved reading magazines that didn’t have pictures of him in them.

“Like… a carnival? _Like The Notebook?!”_ Harry asked. 

Louis chuckled, flicking his eyes up to meet Harry’s as he shook his head, noting the way Harry was biting down on his bottom lip to contain his smirk. “Yes, Harold, just like The Notebook. Except people aren’t allowed to climb the ferris wheel.” 

Harry just rolled his eyes. “Noah wasn’t _allowed_ to climb the ferris wheel. He did it to prove a point.” 

Louis laughed, muttering a sarcastic, _“My bad,”_ before looking back down at the magazine. 

A few moments of silence passed before Harry spoke up again, still curious. “So what else do they have at the fair?” 

“Umm… I don’t know. Rides, food, baby pigs. I went the first year I lived here, and it was exactly what you’d expect an American fair to be like,” Louis chuckled, finally setting Rihanna back in the magazine rack before turning to look at Harry. “You know. _The Notebook_ -ish,” he said, using Harry’s own description against him.

Harry ignored Louis though, focusing solely on: _“Baby pigs?!_ Like baby pigs you can _hold?”_ Harry’s eyes were growing wider and wetter at the thought. 

Louis laughed loudly, shaking his head fondly at him. “Harry,” he began, already knowing the answer to his impending question. “Do you want to go to the fair?” 

“Yes, please!” 

And that was how they found themselves making their way onto the large fairgrounds just outside of Chance later that night. It was evening, around seven or so, as they hoped it wouldn’t be too hot if the sun was going to be setting soon. But the air was still sticky humid, making the smell of funnel cakes and fresh-cut grass seem to stick right to their skin. 

“Oh my god, this really is straight out of The Notebook!” Harry beamed, turning to smile brightly at Louis. 

“I told ya.” Louis grinned happily, glad that something as simple as Chance’s low-budget end of the summer carnival was enough to please Harry. Louis finally tore his eyes away from Harry to take a good look around him, feeling excited on the inside because he really did love these stupid town events. 

The large, grassy fairgrounds had been completely taken over by the event. There were booths lined up on either side of the dirt path as they walked in, some booths offering different games to play--overstuffed bears and other prizes hanging from above each stall--and other booths offering every kind of greasy food they could ever imagine. 

Corn dogs, deep fried Oreos, salty hot pretzels, fried chicken... it was the most glorious, heart-attack-inducing walk of their lives. 

Once they got past the main entrance, there was a sign pointing out the different attractions and which direction they were in. 

If they took a left, there was a petting zoo and show animal section. There was a small, dirt arena set up with benches along the side where show horses and ponies would trot around and be shown off to the crowd. Louis never quite understood the fascination of show animals, but all the kids seemed to love it and it was a huge crowd pleaser. 

If they took a right, they would follow a gravel path towards a flea market type area. Hundreds of booths were set up around the winding path, selling all sorts of items that all claimed to be one of a kind. Apparently--according to the flyer Harry had read aloud while at the Pig Wig--vendors were travelling from all over the country to sell their items here. 

But if they kept on going straight, they would enter into the amusement park section. Much to Harry’s delight, there really was a ferris wheel, which was all decked out in multi-colored lights and was already spinning slowly around while Top 40 music blasted from speakers beneath it. There was an old-fashioned carousel with a queue longer than Louis would ever wait in, sitting next to a giant swinging ship that, frankly, did not look up to code. 

But at the end of it all was the rickety red roller coaster.

It was a tiny thing, really, cramped and layered on top of itself, but it did have a sizable loop in the middle of it and, while Louis was a pretty hashtag YOLO kind of guy, he was pretty sure it looked a bit too dangerous even for his standards. 

How were the rides even inspected? 

Obviously the Disneys and the Six Flags of the world had huge maintenance teams and daily inspections, but, like. 

This was all set up in a field that hosted a variety of events throughout the year. Just last week, this same grassy field had been converted into a concert venue when a relatively known country singer had blown through town on their tour. 

And now, _just a few days later,_ it was--this? 

It was, according to the flyer, “Little Big America’s Old-Fashioned County Fair!” 

If they couldn’t even decide on an adjective to describe it, how was Louis supposed to believe all of their rides were up to safety code? 

But--like--whatever. Despite the rides, Louis was very excited to be back at the fair because this time he had Harry. Harry, who was looking around with stars in his eyes and a big, stupid grin on his face as he looked back at Louis. 

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” Harry said in awe. “It’s like something out of a movie!” 

Louis smiled fondly at him. “I’m glad you’re enjoyin’ yourself, babe.” 

“Thanks for coming with me,” Harry said with a wide smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Louis’ cheek. 

Louis flushed, still not used to their public displays of affection--though he was _totally_ okay with them--and despite the rapid beating of his heart, he still put on an unamused face and made it seem like he really fell on the sword for this one, even though he was just as excited to be here. “Well, you did promise me a blowjob later,” Louis pointed out. “I’d do pretty much anything you ask me, with a mouth like that.” 

Harry beamed, winking when he said, “Good to know.” 

“Anyway,” Louis said, pointedly dragging it out, having to push the images of Harry’s mouth out of his mind before he did something horrible like get hard in the middle of a family-filled fair. “Where to first, love?”

“The baby pigs, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Louis echoed, his smile threatening to split his face clear in half. 

After the pigs (and the goats, and the sheep, and the mini-horses), they had joined hands and made their way down the path towards the rides, planning on making a giant loop of the fair grounds so they could make sure they didn’t miss anything. (Harry’s idea, obviously). The sun was setting even lower in the sky now, and the sounds of different radio stations and children’s excited screams and laughter filled their ears. The air still smelled of various fried foods even though they were on the opposite end of the food vendors. 

As they rounded the long, winding corner, they stopped at the edge of the rusting-red roller coaster. Harry hooked his chin over Louis’ shoulder, pausing to press a soft kiss to his cheek before he murmured in his ear, “Didja want to go on?” 

Louis let out a startled laugh, turning around to face Harry properly. “You _hate_ roller coasters,” he pointed out with a knowing smirk. 

Harry blushed and looked down, and-- _fuck,_ that was pretty. “Yeah, but… you love them.” 

Louis was once again overwhelmed with his love for this boy. He bit down on his bottom lip for a moment before surging up and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to his lips. (They were in public, after all. He would thank him properly later.) “I love you,” Louis said, causing Harry to beam again. “But there’s no way in hell I’m letting either of us get on this death trap.” 

Harry’s head fell back on his shoulders as he cackled. _“What?!”_

“Look at it, ‘Arold!” Louis laughed, turning back around to gesture wildly at the roller coaster. “Where do these things even come from? When it’s not sitting here in Chance, where the hell is it? Who’s taking care of it? Who is making sure it’s up to code?” 

“I didn’t realize you felt so passionately about roller coasters,” Harry said dryly, his words coming out as slowly as ever. 

“I’m just lookin’ out for you, mate,” Louis said with a smirk. He cocked his hip to the side, raising an eyebrow at Harry as he said, “Can’t have two members of One Direction dying at the same time. Imagine how tragic that would be?” 

“Our album sales would go through the _roof.”_ Harry grinned so hard it must have hurt. 

Louis hunched over with how hard he laughed. “We would be all over the news.” 

“Do ya think they’d drag Dan Wooten out of whatever crusty hole he dug himself into just so he could write the article?” 

Louis laughed loudly, his head falling back on his shoulders as he howled. He loved Harry so fucking much it hurt. Or maybe that was just his stomach hurting from all the laughing. He realized he hadn’t responded, so he wiped the tears from his eyes and said, _“Of course._ I’m sure Dan locked that article in years ago.” 

“Definitely,” Harry mused, biting down on his smirk. Once they got themselves under control, Harry turned back to Louis and said, “So was that a no for the roller coater?” 

Louis laughed and rolled his eyes. “That’s a definite _no._ Hard pass.” 

“Thank god,” Harry breathed in relief. “Fuckin’ hate roller coasters.” 

Louis loved him. 

They turned to walk off and Louis mused, “I can’t believe you were willing to go on it.” 

Harry looked at him, stars in his eyes, and said, without any sort of irony, “I’d do anything for you.” 

Louis loved him so fucking much. 

Their hands joined seemingly on their own again before they continued their slow pace around the fair grounds, pointing out different things and chuckling quietly to each other as they passed jokes between them. When they were nearing the front again, with all the different stands selling anything they could ever imagine deep-fried, Louis stopped in his tracks and turned to Harry with a grin. 

“We should _definitely_ get a funnel cake. “

2013-no-unrefined-sugar-Harry would have gasped at the thought, but this Harry _\--his Harry--_ beamed and said, “Oh my god, you have the best ideas.” The two of them quickly made their way to the next stand that was advertising funnel cakes, and then found themselves a little patch of grass to camp out on, ripping off piping hot pieces of dough and taking turns obnoxiously feeding it to each other. 

Because, really, you can get away with _anything_ in the beginning of a relationship. 

Also--this was Chance. People lived for this kind of cutesy stuff. 

When they had finished the entire funnel cake and stood up to walk it off, Harry had a cheeky pinch of Louis’ bum; it wouldn’t be until they got back home that night that Louis would realize he had what was _obviously_ a set of fingerprints left behind in icing sugar on his bum cheek. 

Harry was lucky that Louis loved him so much he could do no wrong. 

As they were passing by the long row of boardwalk-style games, Harry paused in front of one that involved throwing American footballs through a set of rings and wiggled his eyebrows at Louis. “Bet I can win you one of those bears.” 

“Harold, don’t you know all of these games are rigged?” 

“Wanna bet on it?” 

“Definitely.” 

“What are we betting?” 

Louis paused to think about it, going as far as to bring his fingertips up to his chin in thought. “Loser buys the winner a snow cone?” 

“Well that’s lame,” Harry said, laughing suddenly. “I thought there’d be an arse and a mouth involved, but, _if that’s all you want.”_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn’t know that was on the table!” Louis was quick to defend. “Definitely that!” 

Louis couldn’t wait to win this bet. 

But what Louis forgot to remember was that Harry went through an American football phase all those years ago when he first got into the sport, and he and the crew would often throw the ball around when they had hours to waste at empty arenas. So after Harry successfully threw all the balls through the hoops, he turned around with the proudest smile on his face and said, _“I’m amazing!”_

And--yeah. He was. 

“Which color bear did you want?” the teenage girl working the booth asked, smiling politely at Harry. 

“The blue one,” Harry replied easily, thanking her a bunch of times before turning back around and handing Louis the bear, the proud smile still threatening to crack his face in two. “It matches your eyes,” he said sweetly. Louis had to roll his eyes then, because it was either that or he was going to snog Harry senseless right there in the middle of the gravel path. 

“You’re so cheesy,” Louis said, taking the bear from him and tucking it under his arm. “I’m sure this bear cost about twenty cents to make and here you paid, what, five bucks to play?” 

“All this talking,” Harry groaned as they started making their way from the booths. “Can’t wait to put your mouth to better use tonight. Don’t think you’re getting out of that.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, curly.”  
  


** When They Realized Bowling Sucks:  ** 


  
  
Louis hopped out of Stella onto the black pavement, closing the door with his hip while he waited for Harry to get around to his side. “I don’t know if you’re ready for this rager of a party.” Louis smirked at him, using his palm to shield the sun away from his eyes as he looked Harry up and down shamelessly. Harry, who was dressed in tight jeans with a large flowing bowling shirt on, just cocked his hip at him and raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m ready for anything, stud.” 

“You don’t know _wild_ until you’ve seen Last Chance Lanes, mate.” 

Harry laughed loudly, holding his arm out for Louis to cuddle into his side as they turned towards the old bowling alley. The building itself was too large and too outdated. All it did was stand out against the bright green trees behind it, with its faded tan siding and its obnoxious sign that looked like a bowling pin. At one point, the whole sign illuminated red and white, but nowadays only half of the lights worked. 

“Ooh, I love the vibe,” Harry said unironically as soon as they stepped through the door. The building was stuffy and smelled of old shoes and nacho cheese. There were arcade games off to one side, shoes for rent on the other, and in front of them were lane after (empty) lane for bowling. Louis couldn’t see the snack bar right off the bat, but the ever-present smell of nacho cheese led him to believe it was around here somewhere. 

“The _vibe,”_ Louis mocked. “What vibe would that be?” 

“Very… 60s.” 

Louis rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “That’s just because it hasn’t been updated since then.” 

“People would pay for this kind of authenticity in LA,” Harry pointed out as they made their way over to the rental shoes. “They were smart to never update the inside! I’m sure it’s paid for itself twice over by now.” 

At Harry’s words, Louis stopped and gestured around them at the empty bowling lanes. “You sure about that, mate?” 

Harry howled with laughter. “It’s three in the afternoon. On a Thursday. I think I’ll give them a pass for not having to turn people away.”

“I’m pretty sure the Bojangles next door is more hoppin’ than this,” Louis laughed along with him as they stepped up to the rental counter. 

The middle-aged man who ran the place, Fred, laughed out loud at Louis’ comment. “Well, that’s prolly ‘cause they offer biscuits and we ‘on’t!” he said, butting into their conversation with his heavy Southern accent. Louis and Harry both laughed, Louis reaching over to slap hands with the man in greeting. 

“Maybe you should switch out the nachos for biscuits, then,” Louis suggested with a wide smile.

“Maybe so,” Fred happily agreed. “Sadly I think bowlin’ just ain’t what the cool kids do for fun anymore.” 

“Well, we’re here to prove them wrong,” Harry said with a proud smile. “Make it cool again!” 

Louis loved him. 

They went about exchanging their shoes for bowling ones after that, sitting down on one of the blue benches to get the process done, getting distracted by throwing their regular shoes at each other’s feet for a moment. Finally they made their way over to the rack of bowling balls, eyeing their options for a moment before Harry stepped forward and picked up a pale pink bowling ball. 

“You would,” Louis cackled. 

Harry smiled brightly at him, holding the ball properly and swinging it around a bit to make sure it had the right feel, or, like, whatever he was doing. Louis had stopped asking questions a while ago; Harry would always be Harry. Louis switched his eyes back to all of the bowling balls before finding one that had a bunch of glitter flecks in it, making it look galaxy-like. 

“Perfect,” he commented, turning around to show off his ball to Harry. 

“I mean, mine’s cooler, but okay…” Harry trailed off, trying to hide his grin behind the pink ball. 

“You wish,” Louis said, sticking his tongue out at Harry because apparently he was _five._

They made their way down to the lanes after that, choosing one towards the end of the row (not that it mattered, since it was a ghost town inside), and then they both sat down in front of the old-school computer and tried to figure out how to input their names into the scoring system. Louis watched as Harry pecked a few buttons with his middle finger, ever the grandpa when it came to typing, before he couldn’t take it any longer and gently shoved him out of the way. 

“Hopeless, really,” he teased, chuckling quietly. 

It only took a few seconds for Louis to figure it out and was typing their names out into the little boxes in no time. 

“Show off,” Harry huffed under his breath. 

“Everyone has their strengths, dear,” Louis placated as he turned to smirk at Harry. “Technology is not yours.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. 

Louis was delighted. 

“Okay, looks like we’re all set to go,” Louis said a few minutes later, when the old tube television mounted above the lane showed their customized scoreboard. He watched for Harry’s reaction as his eyes travelled up, his jaw dropping before he let out a loud, howling laugh when he saw the Friends reference.

**Player 1 - Regina Phalange** 
**Player 2 - Ken Adams** 


“Oh my god,” Harry said flatly before bursting out laughing. “Really?” he laughed, looking over at Louis with his mouth wide open, his eyes lit up, and Louis had to bite down on his grin to try and contain it a bit. “Which one of us is which?!” 

“You’re _obviously_ Ken Adams.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Harry teased. “Why is that so obvious?” 

Louis shrugged with a flirty smile. “Because he sounds proper fit.” 

Harry laughed loudly, his eyes lighting up again as he reached out and grabbed Louis by his shirt collar, giving him a gentle tug before quickly pressing their lips together. “I’m in love with an idiot,” Harry said against his lips afterwards, shaking his head and stepping back from Louis. 

Bowling was clearly the best idea they’d ever had. 

“Alright, alright,” Louis said as he took a step back from Harry. “Let me show you how it’s done, then,” he said, winking at Harry before heading up to the bowling lane with an exaggerated sway of his hips. He heard Harry whistle behind him in a cat call and he couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped him. He bent down to grab the bowling ball, making sure that his arse was directed right at Harry, because he might as well torture him as much as possible. 

He was sure Harry deserved it for one reason or another. 

Then he was lining his feet up against the red line on the floor and staring at the bowling pins perfectly set up at the end of the lane and--realizing that he had no fucking clue what he was doing. Sure, he had been bowling before, who hadn’t, but… if there was strategy to this game, he definitely did not know it.

So he cocked his arm back and threw the ball down the lane and hoped for the best. 

Except… it went directly into the gutter, and he frowned as he watched the ball slide all the way down to the end without knocking over a single pin. 

Well, fuck. 

He turned around with his pout still present, his bottom lip jutted out as Harry stood covering his own expression with his first because-- _the bastard was laughing at him!_ “Hey! Fuck you!” Louis laughed, his jaw dropping as he pointed an angry finger at Harry. Harry lost it then, letting his head fall back as he laughed louder.

“You talked so much shit all day,” Harry said between laughs. “Then you gutter-balled right out the gate.” 

“I want a do-over,” Louis said with a glare. “What do they call that in your boring ass golf world?” 

“A mulligan, my love.” 

“Right! I want a mulligan, then,” he said, huffing as he retrieved his ball and turned his back to Harry again. This time the ball made it a little further down the lane before veering off to the side and going back into the gutter. 

Right, then. Bowling fucking sucked. 

Harry was laughing even harder by the time Louis returned to him, and Louis could only glare as he said, “Let’s see you do any better!” 

And, to be frank, Louis was expecting Harry to go up there and get a strike. 

Because everything Harry attempted, he excelled in.

He was one of those super annoying people who was just _perfect_ and good at everything he ever tried. It made Louis want to punch him sometimes. So when Harry got up there, with his bright pink ball and his stupid dad bowling shirt flapping around his waist, Louis fully expected Harry to just. 

Like. 

Whip out the bowling skills. 

So when Harry rolled two gutter balls in a row as well, Louis was ecstatic.

“You suck, too!” Louis beamed. “This is amazing!” 

But it got old really quick after that when they realized _how much_ they both sucked at the game. 

“This is the worst game ever!” Harry groaned loudly as he rolled another gutter ball a little while later. They had been at it for almost a full half hour now, and between the two of them had probably only knocked down three or four pins. 

Seriously, bowling was the worst. 

“Hey, remember when we thought it’d be fun to go bowling?” Louis laughed, shaking his head and staring up at the scoreboard, which was proudly displaying their shame. He looked down at Harry, who was standing there with hands on his hips, laughing along with Louis. 

“Wasn’t this supposed to be fun? I’m not having fun!” Harry said, his jaw hung open with disbelief at how terrible bowling was. 

“Maybe you have to be drunk to enjoy it?” Louis asked, chuckling a bit. “Remember that crew party they threw that one year? That was at a bowling alley… I don’t remember hating that.” 

“But that was a swanky bowling alley,” Harry pointed out. “It was basically a nightclub with bowling. Not… this.” 

“What happened to liking the _vibe?”_ Louis teased. “You were obsessed when we first got here!” 

“That was before I decided I hated bowling,” Harry said, smiling brightly at him. “Also, I’m pretty sure if we don’t get out of here in the next ten minutes, I’m never gonna be able to enjoy nachos ever again.” Because, _right._ The smell of day-old nacho cheese was no longer enticing, even to Louis. Now it just smelled stale and like it probably hadn’t been changed out in weeks. 

“Can we go get _proper_ nachos?” Louis asked with a bright smile, wiggling his eyebrows. “From a real restaurant?” 

“As long as you promise to never take me bowling _ever_ again.” 

_“Deal!”_   
  


** When They Tried To Rollerblade:  ** 


  
  
“You know what we should do?” 

_“That_ again?” Louis asked, breathless, sweat still tacky on his naked body and feeling completely boneless. Middle-of-the-day sex was _the best sex._

It was a hot Monday afternoon, and the ceiling fan and air conditioning were barely able to keep up with the heat, especially when their conversation about what to have for lunch turned into a romp in the sheets. Louis turned his head over on the pillow to look at Harry--who was still panting--looking as beautiful as ever. “Because, I mean, off the top of my head, I have a list of about ten other things we could try right now if you’re game.” 

Harry flipped over onto his stomach and rested his chin on the heels of his hands. Louis groaned as he watched it happen, because now they would definitely need to wash the sheets due to the come that had been drying on Harry’s front. 

Oblivious to Louis’ housekeeping woes, Harry laughed and said, “No, I didn’t mean anything _sexual.”_

Louis raised a taunting eyebrow. “So you’re saying _no_ to sexual things from now on, is that how it is?” 

There was a long pause. “...I mean, that’s not what I said...” 

Louis cackled, staring back up at the ceiling with a laugh. “Okay, Harold, do enlighten me. What exactly should we do? _If not sexual?”_

“We should go rollerblading.” 

Losing paused for a long time, taking in Harry’s suggestion with a confused tilt of his eyebrows because, like, that was the last thing he was expecting. “...Rollerblading?” 

“Yes,” Harry giggled. “90s style.” 

“You want to go rollerblading,” Louis said flatly, saying it as more of a statement than a question. 

“I sure do!” 

“Do you want to reunite the Spice Girls after that?” Louis teased, thinking of the first 90s thing he could. “Maybe play with your Slinky? Heh, that sounded kind of dirty.” And, really, only Louis could turn the word _Slinky_ into something dirty. Harry cackled all the same, letting his forehead drop down to the mattress and his arms fall to the bed, knocking Louis in the face in the process. Neither of them seemed to mind. “What’s after that, hmm? Yo-yos and Furbys? Check in on your digipet?” 

“You’re the fucking _worst,”_ Harry laughed into the mattress, still hiding his face from Louis. “I don’t know why I associate myself with you.” 

Louis laughed loudly. “Honestly, mate, I don’t know why you do, either.” 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he finally propped his chin back up on his palms. 

Louis could keep teasing, because teasing Harry was probably one of his favorite things in the world, but instead he smiled brightly and said, “I really am.” 

Okay--they were officially _disgusting._ It was no longer cute. (Louis couldn’t care any less). 

“So, rollerblading. Where did we land on that?” Harry asked. 

“Hate to break it to you, love, but I don’t have any rollerblades for us to use.” 

“Obviously,” Harry said sarcastically. “Doesn’t mean we can’t go out and buy some.” 

“Where do they even sell rollerblades?” Louis asked, scratching at his bare stomach. “Is there a rollerblade store in Chance I don’t know about?” 

“Bro. Walmart. They sell everything, don’t they?” And, yes, yes they did. 

So after a quick shower (which was necessary), they loaded into Stella and drove to the local Walmart to find some rollerblades. When they stepped inside the humid building--the air conditioning proving pointless due to the doors opening and closing so much--Harry stopped the first employee he saw and proudly asked, “Excuse me, ma’am, where do you keep your rollerblades?” 

Louis had to give credit where credit was due, because the employee didn’t even make fun of him. She just pointed in the opposite corner of the store and said, “They’re behind the bikes.” And, okay, right, they were actually doing this. 

“Only you would actually _ask_ a Walmart employee a question,” Louis laughed. “You’re clearly not American enough yet. Don’t you know that the American way is to just wander aimlessly around the store, desperately searching for them instead of asking?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Well, it looks like it might rain later, so, really, time is of the essence.” 

Louis just huffed out a mocking laugh. “Some of the shit that comes out of your mouth, I swear.”

When they finally made it to the rollerblade aisle (which held mostly toys, because, honestly, _what adult goes rollerblading?!),_ they stopped in front of the small section of rollerblades and Harry turned around to Louis. “I’m _so_ excited!” 

“You’re adorable,” Louis said, not even teasing. 

_“You’re_ sweet,” Harry replied easily.

Their cute moment was very quickly ruined, though, as Harry picked up what was obviously a _child’s_ pair of rollerblades and turned to Louis with a huge grin on his face. “These are about your size, you reckon?” 

Louis’ gawked. “You fucking prick!” 

Harry cackled loudly, holding the child’s blades up to his chest tightly, his whole body shaking with how hard he had cracked himself up. 

Louis just continued to stare at him with his jaw dropped, as he tried desperately to keep his grin at bay. 

Because he should be _offended._

Right. 

“I take back everything I said, I can’t stand you,” Louis said, trying to keep his expression stern.

“You’re so cute when you’re mad. So cute and tiny,” Harry laughed, holding up his hand to about chest height, as if to say that’s how tall Louis was. And, if Louis didn’t love him so much, he would definitely be throwing the pair of rollerblades directly at Harry’s head. 

Whatever. 

Thirty minutes, two pairs of rollerblades and a lot of bickering back and forth later, Louis and Harry made their way back to Stella, the sun now hidden away behind a cloud. Harry pointedly went around to the passenger side and opened Louis’ door for him, Louis’ cheeks flushing even as he tried to sound annoyed again. “You just want to watch me use the bitch-step.” 

Harry laughed loudly, leaning up to press a smacking kiss to Louis’ flushed cheek. 

Louis was offended that Harry didn’t even have to use the bitch-step for that. 

They should take the Rove from now on, fuck. 

It wasn’t until halfway home that they had gotten into a debate. 

The road Louis lived on was covered in gravel, therefore not optimal conditions for blading _(blading;_ honestly. Harry used the dumbest words. There was no way they were at all qualified or cool enough to refer to it only as _“blading”)_ , and Harry had just scoffed when Louis suggested they just skate around his kitchen. 

He was being completely serious in his suggestion, but, like, whatever dude. 

Then Louis had suggested going to the park, since there were lots of walking trails around the lake, and Harry had quickly agreed. He even went as far as to thank Louis for his _real_ suggestion. _(“The kitchen suggestion was a real suggestion, you prick!”)_

They rode in comfortable silence after that. 

Once they got back to Louis’ house, they grabbed their skates and headed towards the park; one of Louis’ hands held Harry’s, while the other had his skates dangling from them. 

When they got to the park, they sat down in the warm grass to remove their shoes and replace them with the cheap Walmart brand rollerblades. “You know this is going to be a disaster, right?” Louis laughed, lacing the skates up tightly around his ankles. He tried to remember the last time he went rollerblading, and when he realized it was to teach a six-year-old Phoebe how to skate, his eyes widened at how _old_ he was. 

“Yup,” Harry chuckled, popping the end of the word. 

“I’m also ninety-nine percent sure it’s going to start storming any minute now,” Louis added, pointing up to the grey sky above them with his thumb. 

Harry looked up, seeming to judge the clouds for a moment before he turned back to Louis with a bright smile. “Nahhh, we’ve got at least another hour.” 

“Famous last words, curly.” 

And, like, Louis wasn’t wrong. 

They had only been skating for _maybe_ ten minutes _(“Blading, Louis! Blading!”)_ before lightning struck off in the distance, followed quickly by a loud crack of thunder above them. Louis stopped--well, he attempted to; it was actually just a lot flailing--and turned to look at Harry with a glare. He put his hands on his hips to really show how, you know, annoyed he was and not at all in love with the boy. 

“It’s about to start pouring,” he said, his tone flat.

“Ohhh... “ Harry said, biting down on his lip, which was _not at all_ trying to contain the grin sneaking over his face. “Is that so?” 

Louis couldn’t even form a reply before the clouds above them were suddenly opening up and pouring out fat raindrops over the two of them. Louis yelped, then lunged at Harry, because this was totally all his fault and he should be punished accordingly. 

“Hey!” Harry laughed loudly, his voice coming out loud to overpower the rain. “What are you do-- _oh, fuck!”_ he said, as they both went tumbling down into the sopping grass with a wet _thwack._ Louis laughed loudly, his clunky skates slipping as he tried to get up on his knees and keep his leverage over Harry, his fingers scrabbling for Harry’s ticklish underarms. “St-stop that!” Harry cackled, trying to bat Louis’ prying fingers away as another loud crash of thunder sounded above them. 

The rain was pouring down so hard now that Louis had to yell to be heard over it. “You’re the fucking worst, Styles!” Lightning flashed again just as Harry suddenly flipped them--seemingly effortless, the strong bastard--and before Louis could process what was happening, Harry’s knees were digging into his sides and pinning him down by his shoulders. 

“Surrender!” 

“Never!” Louis laughed, bucking his hips to try and dislodge Harry, but that seemed to have the opposite effect as Harry bit down on his lip and his pupils seemed to widen a bit. Louis gawked, laughing loudly as another crack of thunder echoed around the empty park. “You’re gagging for it, aren’t ya?!” he teased, bucking his hips again. 

This time Harry moaned. 

“You little _minx,”_ Louis said with a wiggle of eyebrows. “Anyone could walk by and see us!” That, though, seemed to spur Harry on as he leaned down and pressed their lips together, his fingers still digging into Louis’ shoulders from where he was holding him. Louis tried hard not to focus on that, because the knowledge that Harry could so easily manhandle him was not going to help this situation at all. 

“Get off me, you big oaf,” Louis laughed when he finally pulled away, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he stared up at Harry. The rain around them seemed to pour down even harder, water dripping off Harry’s soaked hair and dripping onto Louis’, and, like, it was a bit mesmerizing. 

They both startled, though, when an extra-loud crack of thunder boomed right above them. 

Harry laughed at their reactions, shaking his head and pecking Louis once more before rolling off of him into the wet grass at his side. They both wordlessly sat up, grinning at each other as they began taking their rollerblades off. Louis bit down on his cheek again, looking down at his skates as his fingers fumbled with the laces, his feet feeling much more relaxed after he was able to pull the snug-fitting skates off of them. 

He looked over at Harry, getting distracted by the way Harry’s tongue was poking out in concentration as he struggled with his skates, before he spoke back up. “You know what we should do?” 

“Hmm?” Harry asked, looking over at him and blinking the rain out of his eyes. 

“We should go jump in that puddle,” Louis said, nodding his head over Harry’s shoulder. He watched as Harry turned to look at the growing puddle, before looking back over at Louis and grinning wildly. Without responding, he pushed himself up off the ground and put his hands out for Louis to grab onto before pulling him up as well. 

They stumbled into each other for a second, gaining their balance, and Louis shivered at the feeling of the wet grass on his now bare toes. “Race ya,” Louis said, before quickly darting off towards the patch of puddles forming in the dip in the path. 

“You little shit!” Harry laughed from behind him, their feet smacking against the wet ground as they ran. Louis jumped up into the air right before reaching the puddle, landing straight in the middle of it with a loud splash, the dirty rainwater splashing up around him and hitting Harry in the process. They both laughed loudly, feeling like they were little kids again, running around each other and seeing who could make the biggest splashes out of the puddles. 

“Of course your splashes go further! Look at the size of your mammoth feet!” Louis laughed, pushing Harry away from him with the heel of his hands, reaching down to cup water in his palms before throwing it at Harry. 

The water hit Harry in the center of his shirt--which was completely see-through by this point anyway. Why the fuck did he have to be wearing a white shirt?--and Harry’s reaction was to just stand there dumbly with his jaw wide open. “You’re gonna pay for that,” Harry said casually, stretching his arms out behind his head by pulling down on each forearm. Louis just watched as Harry cracked his neck out, shaking his shoulders a bit before suddenly darting at Louis and grabbing him up and over his shoulder. 

Louis’ world turned upside down, suddenly met with the view of Harry’s wet arse, and right away he brought his hands down to smack at it. “Put me down, you caveman!” Louis laughed loudly as Harry swung them in circles, even going as far as to jump into a puddle. Louis was once again impressed with his strength and, unfortunately, turned on by the manhandling.

He was so gone for Harry.

Eventually though, Harry was forced to set Louis down because the storm was starting to pick up and they realized they _should not be outside for this._ So they quickly grabbed up their skates and shoved ther wet feet back into their shoes before racing back to Louis’ house, stopping for a few more puddle jumps and headlocks between the two. 

When they finally made it inside, Reggie gave them an unimpressed look as they stood dripping in the living room. “We should probably, erm… get some towels?” Harry laughed, running his hands through his wet hair and pushing it off his face.

And, like, _right._

They should. 

But at the same time, Louis was a bit distracted by staring at Harry’s chest through his shirt. 

“Louis?” Harry asked, giving him a knowing smirk. 

“I think…” Louis trailed off, biting his lip and openly looking Harry up and down. It wasn’t until their eyes met again that he finally finished his sentence. “I think you should just fuck me instead.” 

And… yes. That was definitely a better plan. 

An hour or so later, when Louis was lying flat on his back, panting up at the ceiling fan and watching it lazily spin above him, he had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. Because, like, they were right back where they started when Harry had wanted to go rollerblading. He looked over at Harry, who was already grinning at him.

Louis turned on his side, curling up and just staring at Harry, happy to just watch him for the rest of the evening. “I love you,” Louis whispered happily, watching a smile spread across Harry’s features. Then, because he was still a little shit, he added, “Thanks for the great sex.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You could say that… the pleasure was all mine.” He barely got the words out before they were both laughing loudly, Louis reaching out a hand to smack at Harry’s chest for his horrible pun. The storm had passed at some point during their rendezvous, but Louis could hear more thunder rolling in from a distance. It shouldn’t have shocked Louis when Reggie’s cold nose was suddenly nudging at his bare back, but he still jumped and arched towards Harry with a loud squeak. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Reg,” Louis complained, looking over his shoulder at the whining dog. 

“Aww, what’s wrong with him?” Harry asked, leaning over Louis’ body to scratch at Reggie’s ears, his elbow digging into Louis’ stomach. 

“Mate, your elbow,” Louis winced, pushing at Harry’s arm until it slid further down his stomach and was pressing more comfortably into his hips. “He’s a big baby and is scared of storms,” he finally supplied, letting his head fall back to the pillow and bringing his fingers up to run through Harry’s hair. 

_“Aww!_ That’s so sad!” 

Louis rolled his eyes. “It’s just thunder. He’ll be fine.” 

“He wants a cuddle!” Harry said, looking over at Louis with a big frown on his face, his fat bottom lip jutted out in the most pathetic pout. Before Louis could say anything, Harry was sitting up and patting the bed, encouraging Reggie with a soft, “Come on, boy! Up you go!” 

“Harold!” Louis squeaked. “He’s not allowed on the bed!” 

“But he’s scared,” Harry said, pouting still. 

“That doesn’t change the rules!” 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “I’ve _seen_ him on your bed before.” 

“Those were all exceptions! He caught me when I was weak. _He’s not allowed on the bed.”_

Harry pointedly ignored Louis when he turned back to the dog and patted the bed again. “Don’t listen to him. Come on, boy!” And then, because Louis’ word meant nothing anymore, he could only watch as Reggie hesitated twice before finally jumping up onto the bed. 

“Harry!” Louis squeaked again, quickly grabbing up the blankets and pulling them over himself as the dog stomped around the bed. “We’re _naked!_ He’s in our bed and we’re _naked!_ This is so wrong on so many levels!” Harry just let his head fall back and laughed as he got up on his knees, _cock just hanging out,_ and began soothingly petting Reggie. 

“It’s okay, darling. No need to be scared. You just curl up right here with us,” Harry said, kneeing his way over Louis so that Reggie _could have his spot on the bed._ Louis’ jaw dropped, watching as Harry fit his big body right up alongside Louis, making sure Reggie had plenty of room on the other side of the bed. “There you go,” he soothed, petting Reggie as the dog finally laid down and began panting hard. 

Harry finally looked over at Louis, their faces much closer together since there was no space left between them _\--due to the big, dopey dog--_ and he smiled brightly at Louis. “There. See? He’s much better now.” 

“You’re _spoiling_ him.” 

Harry happily shrugged as an answer, grinning at Louis before pecking a kiss to his lips. Then, Louis could only watch as Harry leaned over Louis’ body again to press a kiss into the side of Reggie’s head. _Oh my god._ Louis was going to melt into a pile of goo. He had to keep up appearances. 

“Now he’s gonna expect this every time it storms,” he huffed, though he couldn’t stop the fond look from appearing across his face. 

“That’s okay,” Harry addressed Reggie. “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  


** When Reggie Shook Harry’s Hand(!!!): ** 


  
  
The day started out just like any other day. 

Harry had gotten up early in the morning to go for a run, waking Louis just long enough to kiss him goodbye before he jogged off in his tiny running shorts that made Louis want to self-destruct. Louis had then, obviously, rolled over and gone back to sleep for another hour or so. 

Because they were two _totally_ different kinds of people. 

When he woke up the second time, only to find Harry not back yet (it must have been one of his batshit crazy days where he ran _a billion miles),_ Louis had gotten himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of soft trackies and Harry’s discarded shirt. 

It was large and comfy, okay? The fact it smelled like Harry had nothing to do with it. 

He made his way towards the kitchen, desperately needing a cuppa, only pausing for a moment to crouch down and give Reggie a good morning scratch of the ears. When he finally moved on into the kitchen, he silently grabbed the kettle and filled it under the tap before turning it on and staring blankly at it. 

He was replaying the night before over in his mind with a stupid grin on his face, thinking of the way Harry had worshiped over every inch of his body until they were both dying for it, when none other than Harry himself broke him out of his thoughts. 

He turned around when he heard the screen door open, watching as a sweaty Harry came waltzing through the door and smiled widely at him when they made eye contact. 

“Hey, babe,” Harry greeted with a bright smile, casual as ever, while reaching his hands up to untie the American flag bandana that held his hair back. “I didn’t think you’d be up yet,” he continued, smirking at Louis now. 

Louis just rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter as he watched Harry crouch down to greet Reggie. “I like to keep you on your toes,” Louis replied sarcastically, watching as Harry stuck his palm out in front of Reggie, just like he did every morning, and Louis was about to say something else sarcastic when all the words died in his throat. 

He watched with wide eyes as Reggie casually flopped one of his big paws into Harry’s hand before looking up at him with a big, dopey look on his face, his tongue flopped out the side of his mouth as he panted. 

“Oh my god!” Harry squealed, whipping his head over to look at Louis with his jaw practically touching the floor. “Did you see that?! Oh my _fucking_ god!” he exclaimed, giddy as he turned back to the dog. “Look at you! You’re such a good pup!” Harry praised, instantly wrapping his arms around the dog in a cuddle that he may or may not have squirmed to try and get out of. 

“I can’t believe it!” Louis exclaimed, rushing out of the kitchen as Harry pulled back, still praising Reggie with an excited tone. “You actually did it!” Louis laughed loudly, falling to his knees next to Harry and eagerly sticking his open palm in Reggie’s face. “Come on, boy! Shake!” he encouraged, watching as the dog looked from Louis’ palm then up to his face. 

Then, _because he was a total traitor,_ the old lab brought his paw up to knock against Harry’s bent knee, trying to shake with Harry again. 

Louis gawked. 

Harry’s head fell back on his shoulders as he cackled, quickly presenting his palm to Reggie again to shake. 

“You little _shit!”_ Louis laughed disbelievingly. “I can’t believe this!” he exclaimed, watching as the dog shook Harry’s hand again, which only caused Harry to laugh louder. “You little traitorous _shit!”_

“Aww, Louis,” Harry cooed, gently placing Reggie’s paw back down on the ground before reaching out for Louis. 

“No, fuck off,” Louis laughed, swatting his hand away, causing Harry to laugh louder as he continued to coo. 

“Poor wittle Louis got his wittle feelings hurt,” Harry said in a baby voice, his toothy smile completely contradicting his teasing. 

“You’ve stolen my dog’s affection away from me!” And, like, no matter how bitter Louis tried to appear, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with love. Because, yes, Reggie was a little shit for only shaking Harry’s hand, but at the same time… watching Reggie fall for Harry as hard as he himself had, was kind of satisfaction enough.

What would Louis have done if the two didn’t get along? 

He had to shudder at the thought. 

“Aww, how will I ever make it up to you?” Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Louis, advancing on him quickly until he was tackling Louis back to the floor. Louis laughed loudly, pushing at Harry’s chest as Harry placed sloppy kisses all across Louis’ cheeks. 

“Get off me, you monster!” Louis laughed, twisting his head side to side to try and ward off Harry’s wet kisses. “You’re sweaty and gross!” Louis laughed, pushing at Harry’s waist with both hands, Harry’s head falling to Louis’ chest as he laughed. “Stinky, stinky boy,” Louis lied through his teeth, grinning and pulling at a sweaty lock of Harry’s hair. 

Harry’s head popped up then, giving Louis a suggestive look when he said, “Maybe we should go shower, then.” 

Louis grinned. “Maybe we should.”  
  


** When They Went Sky-Diving: ** 


  
  
The sound of the plane was deafening. 

It wasn’t like being on a commercial airliner. There were no frills, _no seats,_ and absolutely nothing blocking the sound of the engines from screaming in his ears, reminding him exactly what he was doing. He chanced a look outside the window, looking down at the green Carolina mountains beneath him, still low enough that he was able to make out the winding roads between the cover of trees. 

_What the fuck were they doing?_

Louis then looked over at Harry, and when he locked eyes with him, Louis burst out laughing. 

It was just… funny, that was all. 

There Harry was, all tall and buff and _sitting in some man’s lap_ and his face was absolutely panicked. Louis shouldn’t have laughed; he should have comforted him or reminded him that the man he was strapped to was more than qualified to get him back on the ground safely, but the pure look of fear on Harry’s face had him bursting out laughing. 

Harry gawked at him. “I can’t believe you made me do this!” he screamed over the roar of the engines. 

“I can’t believe you _agreed_ to this!” Louis shot back, his smile bursting across his face. His heart was pounding in his chest, hopped up on Red Bull and adrenaline and the knowledge that he was finally _\--finally--_ crossing this off his life list. He had wanted to skydive for years, but between One Direction and hiding away in Chance, he somehow never got around to it. 

When he casually mentioned it to Harry a few days before, it was only off-hand. 

Because Harry was scared of heights. 

He had never even _considered_ asking him for real. He always assumed this would be a Niall and Louis bro-trip. 

But then Harry had offered to go with him, encouraged him, even. 

He insisted that now was the time to _be alive_ and to go out and do things that made him uncomfortable. Louis had just laughed him off, because he _could not_ have been serious. But then Harry brought it up again the next morning and--that was how they had ended up here. 

In this tiny propeller plane.

Strapped to two _(hopefully_ qualified) instructors, making their way high into the sky so that they could-- _jump out._

It was ridiculous. 

Louis couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

Looking back at Harry’s face, still chuckling quietly, he realized that maybe he should comfort his boyfriend instead of just laughing at him. He reached out his left hand, stretching it as far as he could, and even then was only able to just brush fingertips with him. 

“I promise it’ll be okay!” Louis yelled, smiling brightly at him as they struggled to grasp fingertips again. 

“You can’t promise that!” Harry yelled back, fear written all over his face. 

The instructor he was strapped to _\--Dave--_ chuckled behind Harry and leaned his head into their conversation to pipe up in his thick American accent, “I can! You’ll be fine, my dude!” 

“And you’re sure you know what you’re doing?!” Harry asked frantically, twisting his head (which was covered in a clunky black helmet, and honestly, it shouldn’t be this endearing), over his shoulder to give Dave a panicked look. Louis laughed louder, because Harry had definitely already asked this question about twelve different times back on the ground, not only to Dave but to Louis’ instructor, Steve, as well. 

“Done it a thousand times, man, I promise ya you’ll be fine!” Dave said, patting Harry on the shoulder while still laughing. Harry just looked back to Louis with panic still evident in his eyes. 

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t go on that roller coaster _yet this is okay?!_ What the fuck are we doing? Oh my god, we’re gonna die,” Harry said all in one breath, and Louis was positive it was the fastest he’d ever heard him speak before. Louis laughed, his heart still pounding loudly in his throat from the fact they were really doing this, but Harry’s reactions were just way too perfect. 

“I love you!” Louis yelled, and--that finally had Harry shutting his mouth. 

“I love you, too!” he finally hollered back, pouting at him. “But I don’t like you right now!” 

Louis, plus both instructors, laughed at that. 

Then, suddenly, the light on the wall above the door turned from red to green and Louis watched with wide eyes as Dave slapped Harry on the shoulder and said, “That’s us!” 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Harry repeated, as he and Dave awkwardly slid along the bench they were straddling until they could stand up by the door of the plane. Louis bit down so hard on his lip he was sure he drew blood, both from trying to contain his fond smile for Harry’s terrified reactions, and because now that the green light was on, everything was ten times more real than it had been before. 

He watched as Dave slid the door open, wind whipping into the plane and making Louis’ eyes hurt.

He could barely hear Dave talking to Harry now, but he did make it out when he said, “Just like we did on the ground! You ready?!” 

Harry looked over his shoulder, making eye contact with Louis and holding it for a second before he nodded roughly and yelled, “I’m ready!” 

And then, just like that, Dave flung the two of them out of the plane and they were gone. 

Louis’ jaw dropped, his heart pounding even harder in his chest when he realized that he just watched the man he loved _jump out of a fucking airplane._ Suddenly he was terrified, too--not for himself, but for Harry. As he and Steve awkwardly slid along the bench, Louis was desperately searching the sky through the windows to make sure Harry’s chute opened. 

Even though it wasn’t time for parachutes yet. 

Louis wasn’t exactly thinking clearly when he was ten seconds away from jumping out of an airplane.

When they got to the edge and Louis was faced with nothing but open air whipping by him, he reached forward and grabbed onto the door frame, his eyes lighting up when he saw Harry spinning off behind them with his arms spread out wide. 

“Ready?!” Steve yelled into his ear. 

“Fuck yes!” Louis instantly responded, letting go of the door frame and letting himself be hurled out into the abyss. 

That first moment was like nothing Louis had ever felt before. 

It was shitting terrifying, mixed with absolute weightlessness and that feeling when your stomach goes up into your throat while on a roller coaster.

It was… mind blowing. 

Better than he could ever imagined, but at the same time far more terrifying than he expected. 

It was a strange feeling to look all the way down at the ground and realize _you were falling straight towards it._ He opened his mouth to scream, or do something, but he was pretty sure he was not making any noise due to all the wind rushing into his lungs. 

He could feel his cheeks flapping back and forth in the wind due to his wide smile and he almost wished now they hadn’t said no to filming it with Go-Pro cameras, because he was sure he looked fucking hilarious right now. 

Thankfully Steve was doing all the work, and they had somehow made their way over to Harry. Harry’s expression matched Louis’, all his fear from back in the plane seemingly washed away as he beamed at Louis and tried to yell something at him, but there was no way Louis was going to hear it. Instead Louis just gave him two thumbs up before blowing him a kiss, making grabby hands at him even though they were just out of touching distance. 

Then Harry was suddenly flying back up into the sky when his instructor had pulled their parachute and Louis was once again overwhelmed with the relief he had knowing that _at least Harry’s chute opened._ He only had a split second to worry about his own fate before he, too, was flying back upwards with the force of their parachute opening. 

Now that they were gliding down to the earth at a slower pace Louis had a chance to look around again and really take in the moment. The sun shining brightly above them, the green, _green_ mountains underneath them. If he looked far off to his right he could see one of the large lakes glistening in the sunlight. 

And to his left, hanging from a bright purple parachute, was the love of his life. 

Louis was pretty sure this was the happiest moment of his life. 

When they touched the ground a few minutes later, Louis was both relieved and dying to get to Harry all at once. He hopped around on trembling legs impatiently while Steve unstrapped them from each other, Steve laughing at Louis’ reaction and asking him if he had a good time. 

“Mate. That was-- _fucking incredible!”_ he exclaimed, happily fist bumping the blond man. “Thanks so much for not letting me die!” 

“You’re welcome, bro,” Steve laughed, nodding his head behind Louis where Harry was bolting at him. Louis quickly turned, running towards Harry while laughing loudly, still coming down from his adrenaline high and his legs feeling like jelly from their freefall. 

They must have looked like a bunch of teenage girls at a One Direction concert jumping around in each other’s arms when they finally got a hold of each other, the two of them both yelling over each other with joy. 

“That was so amazing! Oh my god!” Harry laughed hysterically. 

“That was the best thing we have ever done!” Louis yelled over him, frantically grabbing his shoulders and digging his fingers in. “I’m so glad your chute opened!” 

Harry’s eyes widened comically. _“You and me both!”_

Louis loved him so fucking much. 

“I’m so glad we did this,” Harry said, leaning forward and smashing their lips together in a sloppy kiss, the two of them still too hyped up to do anything but clank their teeth together painfully, the front of their helmets bumping into each other roughly. They both laughed when they pulled away, Louis reaching up to unhook Harry’s helmet for him before undoing his own, trying for another less frantic kiss afterwards. 

“I love you so much, babe,” Louis breathed against Harry’s lips. “So, _so_ much.” 

Instead of replying, Harry just wrapped his arms around Louis--right there in the middle of their landing field--and pulled their bodies flush together as he pressed another kiss into his mouth. 

Yes, today was definitely Louis’ favorite day ever.  
  


** When Harry Checked Out Of His Airbnb:  ** 


  
  
“I just don’t understand, Louis.” 

“What’s not to understand?” 

“You’ve lived here for over two years.” 

“Yeah, and?” 

“And you never even _once_ considered it?” 

“I mean, no, not really, mate.” 

Harry stared at him with a dumb look on his face. They were standing in the middle of Louis’ backyard, the sun shining brightly down on the two of them as Reggie snooped around the perimeter looking for a good place to squat for a poo. 

It was still early morning in Chance, Harry having woken them up because he was still an early riser, and the two of them had followed Reggie outside per Harry’s request. 

Louis watched as Harry huffed, grumpily putting his hands on his hips and blinking hard at Louis. 

Louis loved him. 

Grumpy Harry was one of Louis’ _favorite_ Harry’s. 

“Okay, but, these two trees are perfectly spaced for it. The very first thing I would’ve done after moving here is put a goddamn hammock _right there._ We could be hammocking right now while having this awful conversation, but, _no._ You were too lazy to install one.” 

“Okay, first off,” Louis laughed, bringing his hands up to count off his reasons. “The very first thing I did when I moved here was get _Reggie._ D’ya want to tell him a hammock was more important than him, or should I?” Because--right. They were bickering about hammocks. This was an actual thing that was happening. “Secondly, we _wouldn’t be having this conversation_ if we were, how’d you put it, _hammocking?”_ Louis rolled his eyes, then huffed under his breath, “Because thats a word.” When he saw Harry’s eyes narrow at him he had to bite back his grin. “Because there would be no conversation to have! Because I’d already _have_ a hammock.” 

“Which you should--”

“Excuse you, I’m not finished,” Louis snapped, waving the fingers he had been counting off with in Harry’s face. Harry smiled brightly, his eyes opening wide with amusement before he steeled his expression and crossed his arms over his chest at Louis. “Thank you. Thirdly, I’m not _too lazy_ to install a hammock. I’ve just never thought about it before! I’ve been busy with other things!” 

“Like what?” Harry challenged, his eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, I don’t know, like that time my ex-boyfriend casually rolled into town and _became a huge fucking pain in my arse?!”_

This time, Harry cackled and slapped at his knee. Louis laughed along with him, unable to stop himself, before he forced his annoyed expression back on his face. “So, like I was saying, I had some other things on my mind.” 

“These two trees--”Harry gestured to the offending trees--”were put on God’s green earth to have a hammock attached to them. You’re doing the trees an injustice, Louis. _Think of the trees.”_

“You talk so much shit,” Louis said around a breathy laugh, unable to contain it anymore. “Seriously. I don’t know how I can stand to kiss that mouth when it’s so full of shit.” 

“Hmm, I don’t know either.” Harry grinned, reaching forward to pull Louis towards him by his belt loops. Louis stumbled forward a few steps, matching Harry’s grin when he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck. He tilted his head to the side, blinking sweetly at Harry, waiting for Harry to make his next move. “Say we can get a hammock,” Harry whispered, his eyes blinking from Louis’ eyes down to his lips. 

Louis let his tongue sneak out and swipe across his bottom lip, watching Harry watch him, before nudging at Harry to look at him again. Louis then smiled brightly and said, “Never said we couldn’t, curly.” 

Harry groaned loudly at the sky, causing Louis to laugh and tighten the hold he had around Harry’s neck.

“Why have you been fighting me on this, then?!” Harry whined, pouting at Louis now. 

“Because you’re cute when you’re grumpy.” 

“I hate you,” Harry laughed, rolling his eyes. 

“No you don’t,” Louis said, nosing underneath Harry’s jaw, pressing a soft kiss to the warmed skin. 

Harry tried to play it cool, but, like, Louis could feel his pulse thumping against his lips. He smiled into it, latching onto the skin there and sucking gently, letting his hands trail up the back of Harry’s head and into his soft hair. That had Harry groaning for real, grabbing onto Louis’ hips and pulling them flush together. 

“Fuck, you drive me so crazy,” Harry said, tilting his neck so Louis could have easier access to it. 

Instead of responding, Louis just pulled his hair. Because he really was a shit. 

Later that evening, after Harry had spent more than an hour trying to properly install the hammock around--what he had claimed to be--the perfect hammock trees, Harry realized that the hammock _did not_ stretch far enough to wrap around both tree trunks. He ended up having to go back to the store and get some sort of extender, which was just the most ridiculous thing in the world to Louis. 

Louis spent a long, _long_ time making fun of him for it. 

But eventually, after dinner and a Fifa break, and when the sun had gone down in the sky, Harry finally stepped back and held his hands triumphantly in the air as he yelled, _“I am so manly!”_ And, like, it was the least manly thing a manly man would ever exclaim, but Louis doubled over laughing at his stupid boyfriend all the same. 

“You are _the manliest,”_ Louis encouraged, holding a palm over his mouth to try and hide his laughter. 

“Look at it!” Harry exclaimed, gesturing with both hands at the multi-colored hammock strewn perfectly between two trees in Louis’ yard. “Look what I’ve done! Look what _these two hands_ have done!” he said, staring down at his hands in awe for a moment before looking over to Louis. Probably just to make sure he was reacting appropriately. 

So, of course Louis really hammed it up for him. “It’s so great, babe! You did a _wonderful_ job.” 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?” 

Louis laughed loudly, looking offended as he brought his hands up to his chest and gestured at himself. _“Me?_ No! I’m so serious. You’re the most manliest, strongest, hammock building Englishman I’ve ever seen!

“I could do without your sarcasm, but, thanks.” 

“So can we lay in it now?” Louis asked, cocking his hip and giving Harry what he hoped was a flirty smile. 

Harry smiled brightly at him with all of his teeth on display. _“Of course.”_

Louis walked over to the hammock, pausing to test its strength for a moment by pushing on it, looking over his shoulder to grin at Harry who was just staring at him with an unamused expression, before he finally crawled onto the hammock and starfished. Louis closed his eyes, flexing his bare toes against the edge of the hammock and silently wondering to himself how he hadn’t had one of these all along. 

He would never admit that to Harry, of course, but--still. 

“You better make room for me,” Harry chuckled, and Louis could tell even without opening his eyes that he was standing over him now. He finally opened his eyes, squinting up at him before scooting over and trying to hold the balance steady while Harry climbed in. Louis happily rolled into Harry’s warm body though once they were situated, the soft breeze blowing them back and forth and-- _right._

As queen Hilary Duff once said, this is what dreams were made of.

They laid in silence for a while after that, the only sounds around them being the crickets that had started chirping and the cicada bugs screeching off in the distance. Harry hummed quietly between them, tracing his fingers up and down Louis’ side, causing goosebumps to pebble across his skin even though the heat was still pretty unbearable. The sun had set long ago now, the sky completely dark, but that didn’t stop the heat wave from causing sweat to form on Louis’ brow. 

“It’s beautiful,” Harry finally said, his tone barely above a whisper. Louis tilted his head on Harry’s shoulder so he could blink up at the sky, taking in all of the stars that had appeared. 

“Yeah, it is,” he said with a smile. “Reminds me of Donny.” 

Harry paused. “I guess the stars are nice too,” he whispered, causing Louis to look over at him, only to find him grinning. 

Louis snorted. “That was weak, Styles. I expected better from you.” 

“Made ya laugh though,” Harry mused, tightening his hold on Louis. He was in love with a complete idiot. Louis nuzzled back down into Harry’s shoulder, his arm spread across Harry’s torso, hugging his body close to him. “Can’t get stars like this back in London,” Harry murmured after a few moments. 

“Yeah,” Louis quietly agreed, letting his eyes close and breathing in deeply all things Harry. “Love it out here.”

Silence washed over them again after that, Louis letting his eyes close as their hammock gently swung back and forth, letting the sounds of the woods around him and the feel of Harry’s heart beating beneath him lull him into a snooze. When Harry finally broke the silence, Louis blinked his eyes back open to make sure he heard him. “So… I haven’t been to my cabin in, like, a week.” His words came out casually, but Louis’ heart still picked up a bit at their implications. 

“Hmm,” Louis hummed quietly, burrowing further into Harry’s side, rubbing his nose against his shoulder. 

“It’s kinda starting to seem like… a waste?” Harry asked, his voice coming out slow. “I mean, keeping it rented but not actually being there? I’m just keeping it from someone else who might possibly want it.” Louis hummed again, mostly to let him know he was still listening, but not knowing how to respond. Harry continued, “And, I mean, I’m paying for it still… which seems kind of silly too, since I haven’t even _been_ there in a week, and--” 

“Harold,” Louis laughed, looking up to meet his eyes. “Are you asking me if you can move in?” 

Harry laughed, pulling Louis closer into his side. “Not _move in,_ move in. But, like, it’s stupid for me to keep renting it just to be empty, yeah?” 

Louis ignored Harry’s explanation, not hesitating when he said honestly, “You could _move in,_ move in, you know.”

Harry smiled down at him, a soft, sweet smile that kind of made Louis’ heart hurt. And, like, they should definitely talk about this first; this was clearly heading towards a serious conversation. But then Harry was leaning down to press their lips together in a chaste kiss, pausing a moment before gently pulling back. Harry reached down and brushed a fallen piece of fringe from Louis’ eyes, the two of them breathing each other in for a moment before Harry said, “Who says I even want to live in Chance?” 

“You fucking prick,” Louis laughed loudly. 

Harry chuckled, shifting around a bit under Louis to get more comfortable. They were silent for a moment before Harry continued, his fingers scratching lightly up and down Louis’ side. “You know, I didn’t expect to be here this long originally. I’m surprised they’ve let me rent the cabin this long, considering my original rental agreement was only for two weeks. And I don’t know if you’ve done the math or not, but that was almost _four months ago...”_

“Hmm… four months,” Louis hummed, his eyes widening a little at how long it had been. Looking back, it kind of seemed like he had run into Harry at the Pig Wig years ago, yet at the same time it felt like it was just yesterday. 

And now they were-- _this._

Louis leaned back a little so he could look Harry in the eyes, reaching up to trace his fingers down the side of his sharp jaw for a moment before he smiled at him. “Harry… you live in London.” 

Harry was silent for a second before he said, “So do you, technically.” 

Louis rolled his eyes softly at him, chuckling quietly because _it was totally different._

_“Technically”--_ Louis mocked, Harry’s lip twitching up into a smirk--”I live here, Harry. I own this house. I’ve lived here for years… this is my current address. London is just...“ Louis trailed off, trying to think of the words to describe how he felt about London. Now that they’re back together, he hadn’t had enough time to properly think about _“home”_ again. 

Before, London held nothing but bad memories, but now…? 

“London is just where I own property,” Louis finally finished his sentence, picking a piece of fluff off of Harry’s shirt. They laid in silence for a few moments after that, letting his words sink in between the two of them before Harry turned over on his side to face Louis properly. Louis smiled softly at him, tracing his thumb down Harry’s jaw again, because, like, it was right there. 

Harry smiled at him, then leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple. “Do you plan to live here the rest of your life?” 

And, like. 

“Yes,” Louis answered without really thinking about it. “I do.” And, it wasn’t something he thought about often, to be honest. When he first moved here it was only with the intention of getting away from all the horrible feelings of London, but the longer he lived in Chance, the more he realized _this was his home._

England would always be where he was from, and he would always be a proud Englishman, but. 

_This was his home._

He finally met Harry’s eyes again, scared of what he would find there, considering what he had just admitted, but all he found was Harry smiling sweetly at him. Harry cleared his throat before saying, “‘S good thing I bought a truck, then.” 

“Harry,” Louis sighed, biting down on his tongue. “Just because you’re moving in here doesn’t mean you have to, like, decide _right now_ to live here forever. I--I don’t even know why we’re talking about this at all, this is way too soon, we just--” 

“Lou.” Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not too soon. It’s a long time coming, actually. And--”Harry chuckled--”I already promised you that I’d never leave you.” And--like-- _right._

He _had_ promised Louis that. 

But they also hadn’t talked about it since that night because _it was such a huge fucking promise._ A huge, loaded promise that hadn’t been brought up again because of its hugeness. 

Harry, always-cool Harry, just continued on over the screaming in Louis’ head when he casually said, “So, if you plan to live here for the rest of your life, babe, I’ll be right here with you. Because I’m not leaving you.” 

“But...you’re _British.”_

Harry cackled at that, his whole face lighting up and laughing loudly. “So are you, you dork!” 

“I know that,” Louis groaned quietly, digging his face into the hammock because he just needed a second. Harry tugged them a bit closer by his hold on Louis’ back, his fingers tucked underneath his shirt, tracing gentle patterns against his sweat-tacky skin. Once Louis had his composure again, he looked back up at Harry and finally continued, “I don’t have anything in London, Harry. _You_ have lots of things. You have all those friends and-- _oh god,_ Anne is gonna hate me!” 

Harry laughed loudly again at that, his eyes lighting up wide with it. “She could never.” 

“Oh, _she could_ and _she will!”_

Louis sighed, shaking his head and staring off past Harry’s shoulders because--he just needed a minute. He stared across the yard, watching as a bunch of lightning bugs flew around with their butts glowing green every few seconds. 

Louis replayed their conversation so far in his head, thinking about how it wasn’t that he didn’t have _anything_ back in London, because, like, he had six siblings spread out across England that he cared about and missed every day. 

But he couldn’t see himself ever moving back there.

He couldn’t ever see himself leaving behind Chance for good with no intention on ever coming back. 

The thought alone gave him so much anxiety that he felt like his chest might explode. 

“Hey,” Harry said, shaking him from his thoughts. Louis flicked his eyes back over to Harry and frowned when he saw the concerned look on his face. “What’re you thinking about?” 

“I don’t want you to have to move here. I know this place isn’t for everybody… I don’t want you to resent me for it ten years down the road because you left your home and moved to this-- _buttcrack_ of a town,” Louis said, using Niall’s term of endearment for Chance. 

“Babe,” Harry said, chuckling quietly at the buttcrack reference. Harry smiled softly at him again and squeezed around Louis’ lovehandles before leaning forward and pressing their lips together again. He pulled back just enough to whisper, “I could never regret anything when it came to you.” 

“That’s _not_ true, Harry. Don’t just say shit like that. We need to be honest with each other.” 

“I _am_ being honest with you, love,” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper but the intense eye contact they were sharing showed how sincere he was being. “I’m never letting anything come between us again. Tell me you want to move to the North Pole right now and I’ll be ready.” Harry spoke slowly, his eye contact never breaking, his fingers still gripping tightly against Louis. 

“How can you be so sure, though? That you’ll be okay with living here for the rest of your life? Won’t you miss home?” 

“It’s not like we can’t visit, darling,” Harry said, with just the tiniest hint of condescension in the way he said _darling._ “We’re going back there next week, for example. And there’s always holidays, or birthdays, or whenever Mum wears me down into coming to see her,” he said, smirking at the end. Louis shook his head with a small smile, choosing not to respond. “Also, I haven’t _really_ lived at home in--a long time,” Harry said, his voice growing softer with each word. 

Louis frowned. 

“Not since _we_ lived together, really,” Harry continued, his voice hardly above a whisper now. “There was always One Direction things, and then all the things _after_ One Direction. Then, you know, a whole bunch of… staying off the grid since then,” Harry said, stroking Louis’ back again. “There was hardly any time for Cheshire, let alone London.” 

“Which makes this even more of a commitment,” Louis finally spoke up again. “You haven’t stayed in one place for a long time, Harry. You like to go out and see the world. I don’t want you to settle down too quickly in this tiny town with--with me. And then, like, regret it when you’re ninety.” 

“Louis,” Harry spoke more firmly. Their eyes met and Harry smiled reassuringly. “I love you with all my heart. I _promise_ you that as long as you’re in my life, I could never regret a single thing when I’m ninety. I’ve done all the exploring I want to of the world by myself. I want _you_ now.” 

And, really, how could Louis ever say no to that? 

“Kiss me,” Louis finally said, his tone soft but his eyes fond. Harry was quick to comply. 

When they pulled apart, Harry smiled brightly at Louis and said, “So I should check out of my cabin in the morning, yeah?” 

Louis grinned so wide it hurt. “Yeah.” 

And Harry did just that. 

That was how the past three weeks had managed to fly by in front of Louis’ eyes. 

It was so easy to get caught back up in Harry, in them, in the little moments that would be forever burned into Louis’ mind. Little moments that he could place next to all the ones they had shared _before,_ when they were babies in love, figuring out life and each other. And Louis really was trying hard not to focus on the lost years, to give his current relationship with Harry everything he had, because he owed it to himself. 

He owed it to Harry. 

He owed it to _them._

He would never be able to go back in time and fix it, somehow twist the hands of fate and make it so they never broke up, so there was just no use in dwelling on it. Because if Louis thought about it too long, he’d get completely overwhelmed with sadness, thinking about all the memories he could have had in his mind now over the decade that he’d known Harry. 

So while some of these moments probably weren’t significant enough to remember forever, like trying and failing to roller blade or going to a stupid fair together, he had a lot of time to make up for. So to him, those moments were more precious than anything and he’d commit every little detail to his memory. 

Before he knew it, though, it was the night before they were leaving to go back to London. 

The plan was simple:

  1. Fly to London. 
  2. Attend Niall’s stag do.
  3. Attend the wedding.
  4. Drive to Doncaster to see the fam. 
  5. Drive to Holmes Chapel to see _Harry’s fam (!!!!!)._
  6. Fly back home. 



Easy peasy. 

Except, it wasn’t easy peasy. Because Louis hadn’t seen Anne for years. And, like, Harry had ensured Louis that she was over-the-moon happy that they were back together, and obviously Anne wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of making Louis’ favorite cookies to send back with Harry last time he visited if she was still holding a grudge. 

But, like, _this was still a big deal._

Or, if she was still holding a grudge, the cookies would have been the perfect time to poison Louis and get rid of him once and for all. He hadn’t even given it a second thought before happily chomping down on those cookies; he was lucky he survived! 

Fuck. Now he just wanted cookies. 

There was also the fact that this would be the first time Harry had been back in Louis’ _\--their--_ house in eight years. 

So, there was that. 

Not to mention that going back to England in general was always, just, _tough_ on Louis. 

All things Harry aside, every time Louis has gone home to Doncaster in the years since his mother’s passing, it was always been filled with heartache, and too many memories, and trying _so hard_ to mask his sadness away from his siblings. Going home always involved putting on his _“Everything’s fine!”_ mask.

Why couldn’t Niall have a destination wedding? 

Why couldn’t they have gone to the Bahamas for a week or something? 

Niall really was a selfish prick sometimes. 

“You all packed up?” Harry asked, hooking his chin gently over Louis’ shoulder and nuzzling into the side of Louis’ face. Louis was standing in his open closet, his suitcase wide open on the floor in front of him, and he didn’t know how long he had been zoned out just staring before Harry had broken him from his thoughts. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis from behind and Louis brought his hands over them, smiling over his shoulder at him and nodding. 

“I think so.” 

“Are you okay?” Harry frowned, his eyes flicking over Louis’ features. 

“Of course, babe,” Louis assured him, reaching over to peck Harry’s pouting mouth. “Just always feel weird going back home, that’s all.” 

Harry hummed, rocking the two of them back and forth for a moment while he let Louis’ words sink in. “You know, if you’re more comfortable going back to Donny without me, I can always just meet you at Mum’s. Or, if you don’t want to come to Cheshire at all, I totally understand.” 

“Harry, no,” Louis said, firmly shaking his head and turning in Harry’s arms. “That’s not it _at all.”_

“Are you sure?” Harry asked with a gentle smile, scratching his fingers up and down Louis’ back. “I promise I won’t be mad,” he chuckled, tilting his head and smirking down at Louis. 

Louis laughed quietly. “I’m sure.” 

Then, in one of their freaky moments where they’re thinking the same thing, Harry laughed and said, “Why couldn’t they have gotten married in Hawaii or summat?” 

Louis laughed, his face lighting up. “I was thinking the Bahamas!” 

“Aruba, Jamaica, oooh I wanna take ya,” Harry sang, his smile wide and bright as he sang out the horrid Beach Boys lyrics. “Bermuda! Bahama! Come on, pretty mama!” 

“I can’t stand you,” Louis said fondly, unable to contain his grin as Harry swayed them back and forth along with his singing. And just like that, Louis was instantly feeling a bit better. All it took was one goofy smile from Harry, or apparently just a stupid Beach Boys song, and all of Louis’ anxious thoughts were replaced with _Harry, Harry, Harry._

“Do you think Reggie will be sad while we’re gone?” Harry asked, his hands clasped behind Louis’ back. 

“I think he’s going to gain twenty pounds,” Louis laughed quietly. “Their little girl loves to feed him table scraps.” 

Harry tisked. “Naughty, naughty.” 

“We’ll have to push him through the door he’ll be so wide,” Louis mused, shaking his head and laughing quietly. 

“Maybe I should start taking him for runs with me.” 

Louis laughed at the absurdity of it. “Are you joking? You’d kill him! You can’t run an old dog fifty miles!” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I meant on my _short_ days.” 

“Right. Well, your _short days--”_ Louis mocked with an obnoxious face--”are still a few miles longer than he can run for.” 

Harry pouted. 

Louis smiled brightly, hopelessly endeared by the boy. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, pulling back just slightly before cooing at him, “Aww, I’m just kidding, babe. You can… try.” Because, _he wasn’t kidding._

Reggie was too old to run. 

But he knew Reggie would never allow himself to be pushed further than he wanted, and would most likely just lie down in the middle of the path halfway through their run. 

Harry would end up carrying him home. 

Louis couldn’t wait to see it happen.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omgomgomgomgomg only one chapter left. 
> 
> Hello everybody!!! I hope you enjoyed this 15k of shameless fluff. After all they've been through over the course of the story, I figured it was time for a chapter filled to the brim with disgustingly sweet, over-the-top fluff. Also, let's all take a second to AISJFOISAJFOIAJS because REGGIE FINALLY SHOOK HARRY'S DAMN HAND. WHAT A LAD. WHAT A LEGEND. 
> 
> How is everybody doing? Did you all have a good weekend? My weekend was very busy and very expensive... I finally made a decision and signed a lease on a new apartment _and_ traded my car (RIP Big Mike) in for a beautiful [new](http://68.media.tumblr.com/9f0155d88ea56313e67fb6381f47ea47/tumblr_otybu4V6cb1vra57po1_500.jpg) one! I'm very happy... and very poor now. What does a girl have to do to be born a trust fund baby, amiright? 
> 
> ANYWAY. 
> 
> Shoutout to the 1998 Disney Channel Original Movie classic, [Brink](https://media.tenor.com/images/89206a7e6b8b53e6aa324cbb3a9938fb/tenor.gif), for inspiring the rollerblading scene. Do you even skate, brah? (I realize I keep aging myself with these references, but I have no shame left in me. Here is me, [thrusting](https://media.tenor.com/images/e20d29cf85057ffed00bfeaaedde1b03/tenor.gif) away my problems...)
> 
> I swear that's the last Brink gif I'll hit you with.
> 
> ***harry styles voice*** ORRRRRR IS ITTTTTT?!?!?!? (No, it is.) 
> 
> Thank you all so so so so so so so so so so so so so (x1000) much for the amazing comments on the last chapter. Idk what I'm going to do with my life when this story is over and I no longer have your comments to look forward to. I guess I really need to start writing my next fic now so I won't go through so much withdrawal. 
> 
> Have an amazing week everybody! I'll see you Friday for the last chapter... I'll provide the tissues and the wine (for those over 18/21... SORRY, LITTLE ONES), all you have to do is show up! =) 
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


	12. Part Twelve

  
[](https://68.media.tumblr.com/6e0d0b78821fbf290c335321ad5ab05f/tumblr_inline_ou4vs70L9I1ri31al_540.jpg)  
  


  
Landing in London Heathrow felt like dumping a bucket of ice water over Louis’ head. (And he _knew_ what that felt like, no thanks to Niall Horan himself.) Everything was so painfully familiar and Louis couldn’t help the sense of _home home home_ that took over his brain. No matter how long he was away for, and no matter his newfound realization that he would never _live_ here again, that feeling of finally being home after months away hit him like a ton of bricks.

The familiar accents, the familiar airport announcements, the M&S lurking around the corner. 

Everything was painfully British and Louis ached with how _refreshing_ it was. 

He could see the rainy sky outside the massive windows covering the front of Heathrow as he stood waiting while Harry collected their bags, and he stopped for a moment with his eyes closed to let himself take it all in. Truth be told, it hadn’t been _too_ long since he was back here. He had definitely been gone for longer stints of time back when One Direction were off touring the world, but it had been just long enough that he kind of wanted to sit down and cry about it. 

But he wouldn’t. 

Because… he was a grown-up. 

With grown-up emotions. 

Who had a _handle_ on his grown-up… emotions. 

Yes. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking Louis from his thoughts.

**im outside loser. hurry up.** 


Louis grinned at his phone, quickly sending Lottie back a thumbs-up emoji before locking his phone again. He slipped his phone back into his pocket before looking around for Harry, his eyes instantly catching on him as he pulled Louis’ suitcase off the luggage carousel. Harry was dressed up again, in his tight black trousers and blazer, and Louis really didn’t understand his fashion choices in the best of times, let alone right now. 

Wouldn’t you want to be comfy for an eight-hour flight? 

Louis looked down at his track pants and hoodie and just had to laugh. 

“Lottie’s here,” he said, once Harry had made his way over to them with their bags in hand. 

Harry smiled brightly at him, then nodded towards the doors. “Lead the way.” 

The two of them made their way outside into chilly, wet London. Thankfully the rain was only drizzling as they walked down the line of waiting cars, Louis looking for Lottie’s Mini in the sea of vehicles before he finally spotted it. “Ah, here we go,” he said, nodding towards the end of the line. 

As they approached the car, the door opened and a platinum blonde-headed Lottie got out and smiled widely at the two. 

And just like that, Louis felt more at home than before. 

“Bring it in!” he cheered, opening his arms wide and waving her over. She rolled her eyes, acting as if the big smile on her face didn’t give her feelings away, before stepping into his embrace and returning the hug just as tightly. “What a lovely sister you are, picking your old brother up from the airport. What a lad, really,” Louis teased with a blinding grin when they pulled away from their hug. 

“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just hire a car,” she said, her eyes narrowed but her grin still present. 

“And deny you the quality time? I would never.” 

Lottie huffed, shaking her head. “Pain in the arse, more like.” 

Harry cleared his throat behind the pair, and it was only then that Lottie looked over his shoulder at Harry. 

And, _right._

They hadn’t seen each other in a _very_ long time. 

Louis had obviously phoned his sister shortly after they had gotten back together, to spill the tea and to cuss her out for partaking in Niall’s betting pool, so she knew they were back together. But seeing him in person, after all these years, must be weird for her; Harry, too. 

He could only watch as Harry set their bags down on the rainy street and hug-pounced Lottie before anything could be weird. “I’ve missed you so much! It’s so good to see you! _Look how grown up you are!”_ He said all of this quickly, into the back of her head while they hugged, and when he pulled away he just stared at her with a dropped jaw. “You’re a grown woman!” 

“Fuck off.” Lottie rolled her eyes. “I was grown last time you saw me.” 

“No, you weren’t! You were a wee little _baby!_ Look at you now!” Harry said, as if they didn’t follow each other on Instagram now. 

Louis loved him. 

He had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to contain his fond smile. 

“You’re so weird,” Lottie groaned. “You’re _still_ so weird. I’m only a few years younger than you, mate.” 

“But _look at you!”_ Harry said, his hands against his cheeks now as he looked over at Louis. “Do you see this?!” 

“My sister?” Louis laughed. “Yeah, mate, I’ve seen her.” 

“Can we go now?” Lottie asked, her tone sounding annoyed, but her flushed cheeks told a different story. “Or is he gonna lose it when he realizes I drove here?” 

_“You have a driver's license?!”_ Harry exclaimed sarcastically, laughing loudly afterwards because he was just being a twat now. Louis laughed along with him, unable to contain it, and watched as Lottie reached out and punched Harry on the arm before flipping him off. 

Ah, yes, the Tomlinsons were full of charm. 

“Come on, you idiots. London traffic is gonna suck at this hour,” Lottie groaned, opening the boot of the car so Harry could put their bags inside. Louis had to bite back another grin when he watched Harry try to pinch her cheeks, telling her how adorable she was when she was mad. 

It was like no time had passed between them at all; any grudges held long forgotten as the two of them fell back into the exact relationship they had back when they were all teenagers. (Harry would heckle Lottie, Lottie would pretend to be annoyed. It was the perfect relationship.) 

Louis was so relieved. 

“You know Fiz threw a party at your house the other day?” Lottie tattled once they were all in the car. 

Louis laughed. “Why does that not surprise me?” 

“She’s practically been living there.” 

“Stop trying to get her in trouble,” Louis said with a roll of his eyes. “I know she’s been living there sometimes. _Someone_ ought to be getting use out of the place.” 

“If anyone should get to live there, it’s me. I’m the next oldest.” 

“You have a lovely flat,” Louis pointed out. 

“Right. A _flat._ Meanwhile, Fiz has been held up in your _mansion.”_

Louis just laughed, reaching over to ruffle Lottie’s long hair, laughing even harder when she smacked him away. “Let’s just hope she cleaned up after her party,” Louis said, leaning back into the seat and glancing over his shoulder at Harry. Harry looked up from his phone, his long legs folded into the tiny backseat, and he blew an exaggerated kiss at Louis. 

“I can’t believe that Niall is getting married. And I can’t believe that I’m _not invited,”_ Lottie said, glaring over at Louis as if it was his fault. 

Louis just laughed. “He’s a right prick, that one.” 

“You can be my plus one,” Harry offered from the back. 

“Excuse you, Harold, _I’m_ your plus one,” Louis said, looking over his shoulder again to glare at Harry. 

“You’re the best man,” Harry said flatly. 

“So?” 

“So that means you’ll be busy doing best man things. Lottie can be my date and keep me company.” 

“I wasn’t invited,” Lottie repeated, pouting as she looked over her shoulder before switching lanes. 

“I’ll share my dinner with you,” Harry offered with a shrug. “Hope you like fish.” 

“I happen to love fish,” Lottie said, grinning at Harry through the rearview mirror. 

“Great! Can we coordinate outfits? I brought a few different ones with me because I couldn’t decide.”

Louis just looked between them with a dumb expression across his face, because… they couldn’t be serious.

But then Lottie said, without a hint of amusement, “We totally can! I can bring some dresses over tomorrow morning and we can decide?” 

“Perfect!” Harry said, reaching his fist up through the space between their seats to bump against Lottie’s. 

“What the fuck?” Louis asked, holding his hands up. “You are actually _ditching me_ for my sister?” 

“I’m not ditching you, darling,” Harry said, leaning forward to press a kiss against Louis’ cheek. He was quick to bat it away, causing Harry to laugh as he fell back into his seat. “You’ll just be busy. You don’t want me to get bored, do you?” 

Louis pouted and then begrudgingly said, “No.” 

“Then it’s sorted.” 

The rest of the drive to the house was spent with happy chatter floating between the three, and a lot of sibling bickering between the Tomlinsons. When Lottie finally pulled the Mini up to the gate of Louis’ house, rolling the window down to punch in the code before pulling into the driveway, Louis was struck with _how long_ it had been since he’d been here. 

The last few times he had visited, he had pointedly _not_ stayed here. 

The only people who got any use out of it now were his siblings.

Lottie lived in the city with her long-time boyfriend Tommy, and Félicité (who _did not_ like going by Fiz anymore, but Louis and Lottie were stubborn), slept here most weekends instead of her dorm room at uni. In between those guests, Louis had hired people to tend to the house, to make sure nobody had broken in and stolen his pants or something, but to his knowledge the house sat mostly untouched. 

Until now. 

Because he was back _with Harry._

“Thanks for the ride, baby sis,” Louis said, pulling Lottie into another hug when they were standing outside the house, car still idling in the driveway. “You’re the best Uber I’ve ever hired.” 

“You’re so embarrassing,” Lottie groaned, pulling away from their embrace and acting like she was too cool for his compliments. Even though deep down they both knew how much they’d missed being together. Louis reached over and pinched her just to show how much he cared. She easily retaliated by stomping on his foot. 

“Now, now, children,” Harry chastised, grinning at the two. “We can’t show up to the wedding with a bunch of bruises, can we?” 

“Okay, dad.” Lottie rolled her eyes. 

Louis coughed. _“Anyway,”_ he said frantically, “you should get going! Traffic’s only getting worse! Drive safe!” 

“Rude,” Lottie mumbled, flipping him off before turning on her heel and getting back into her car. When Louis turned around, ready and willing to make a _daddy_ joke at Harry, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Harry staring up at the front of the house with an unreadable expression on his face. Louis just watched him for a moment, his eyes flicking from the brown leather duffle hung over his shoulder to the sunglasses holding back his hair, before he finally sighed and took a step forward. 

“You ready to go in?” he asked gently, reaching down to grab the handle of his own black suitcase. 

Harry smiled at him, and Louis couldn’t tell if it was forced or not, but all the same he said, “Sure.” 

They silently made their way up the steps to the front door, Louis fumbling with the keys for a moment before inserting the correct one and turning the lock. He paused with his hand on the doorknob, a sudden wave of panic washing over him when he realized what a fucked-up situation they were in. 

They were about to enter the house _they bought together_ when they were teenagers.

What was Harry thinking? 

How was Harry feeling? 

What was he _expecting?_ Oh, god… 

He let his hand drop from the doorknob, quickly turning around to a confused looking Harry. He opened his mouth to say something, to say anything, but all that came out was an awkward little squeak. 

Harry, _always-perfect Harry,_ just smiled softly at him. “It’s okay, love.” 

“Harry--I. Like.” Yeah, those weren’t sentences. 

“I know,” Harry assured him, with a gentle nod of his head. But, _how could he know?_

Louis continued anyway, feeling like he had to say something before they walked in. “It’s just--like--I don’t live here anymore.” 

“I know that, too,” Harry chuckled quietly, his gentle smile still present.

“It… looks different.” 

“I imagine it would,” Harry said. 

“Fiz lives here more than anyone--who knows what she’s done to the place since I’ve last seen it, and--” 

“Lou, love,” Harry breathed, pausing for a moment before he said, “just open the door.” 

“...Okay.” Louis nodded, turning around and finally pushing the door open. They silently stepped inside, Louis allowing Harry to step past him before closing the door behind them. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing in deeply for a moment before letting it out and turning around. He placed his keys down on the table next to the door, gently toeing his shoes off before finally finding the courage to look at Harry. 

He watched as Harry silently looked around, his expression still unreadable, and the more time that passed between the two of them, the worse Louis felt. Louis knew how this place made _him_ feel, and it was still technically his home. He was the one who had made all these changes. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Harry to be back here after all these years. 

When Harry first moved out, Louis made it a point to try to make the place feel completely… different. 

Because everywhere he looked he saw _them._

He saw _Harry._

So he tore all the art down and replaced it with something new. When that didn’t work, he repainted the entire house. Then he changed out the furniture, bit by bit, room by room. When none of that worked, he decided to just drink instead. Those were the dark times. Those were the times when he’d get drunk enough to stumble into the spare bedroom that held all of his One Direction awards and memorabilia, and would spend the first hour cussing out Harry’s stupid face in all their band pictures and throwing his empty bottles around, followed by a few hours of crying. 

He knew that however Harry had been imagining this place to look like, it was probably nothing compared to the real thing. 

Because nothing was familiar. Not even to Louis. 

“Are you mad?” Louis finally asked, his voice small. 

That finally had Harry turning back around, frown deep on his face. “That you… painted?” 

“Yes.” 

Harry smiled then, but it looked tired. “Of course not,” he said, hesitantly reaching out and holding on to Louis’ elbow. Louis relaxed into the touch, stepping closer until they were nudged together. “I didn’t expect it to be a shrine or anything.” 

“I know, but… “ Louis shrugged. “I hate everything about this place.” Harry tensed and Louis instantly felt worse. Louis gripped Harry’s hips gently, looking up to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that, like, this place is…” _bad memories._

“I know,” Harry whispered, giving him another tired smile. 

“You’re mad,” Louis confirmed, frowning up at him. 

“I’m not, I promise,” Harry said, leaning down to press their lips together in a quick kiss. 

“Everywhere I looked I saw you,” Louis said, feeling as though he had to explain himself. “That’s why I changed everything.” 

“Babe, really, I get it,” Harry said, reaching up to stroke Louis’ cheek. “I really didn’t expect it to look the same. I--I don’t know what I was expecting, really, but it’s fine. It just…” 

“What?” Louis whispered. 

“It makes me sad.” 

Louis frowned, his throat burning now with the tears that wanted to fall. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Harry shook his head. “It makes me sad because, like, I made you sad. You did all of this because of me. You were sad _because of me_ , and that just. It makes me really fucking mad at myself.” 

“Harry,” Louis said, swallowing roughly. “Don’t. Please don’t, okay? We’re--we’re past this. We’re together now, that’s all that matters.” 

Harry sighed, turning his head away and blinking his glassy eyes away from Louis’ gaze. Louis watched his Adam’s apple bob harshly in his throat. He knew he needed to say something, needed to make Harry smile again, because seeing him like this was tearing Louis’ insides apart.

“Hey,” Louis whispered, waiting until Harry looked back at him before he smiled. “I love you, you know.” 

“I love you, too,” Harry said quickly, wrapping his arms around Louis and pulling them together. Louis leaned into it and rested his head against Harry’s collarbones. He closed his eyes again, focusing on the feeling of Harry rubbing his back. “Past Harry was such a dick,” Harry whispered. 

That had Louis laughing for real, pulling back just far enough so he could look up at Harry. “Past Louis wasn’t anything to write home about either,” he chuckled, his eyes flicking across Harry’s features to make sure they really were gonna be okay. He leaned up to press their lips together again, because he had to, and they stayed pressed together for a few moments before he finally pulled back. 

They kept their eye contact this time, Harry smiling softly down at him, Louis’ fingers sneaking up the back of Harry’s blazer to touch the warm skin underneath. That made Harry smile brighter. Louis cleared his throat before he asked, “Are you gonna be okay staying here?” 

Harry nodded. “Are you?” he asked, raising both eyebrows at Louis. 

Louis paused. “I think so.” 

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, rubbing his back again as he considered Louis’ answer. “Why don’t we see if we can stay with Lottie?” 

“Her flat is too tiny,” Louis said, shaking his head. 

“We could get a hotel, if you’d be more comfortable?” 

Louis thought about it for a minute before finally letting out a puff of air. “Seems silly, doesn’t it? I mean, this is _my_ house…” 

Harry shrugged, smiling at him again. “It’s not silly if it’ll make you feel better.” 

“It’s okay. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay,” Louis said, scratching at the base of Harry’s spine. Harry leaned down to kiss him again, this time bringing up one hand to rest against his neck as he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapped tightly around Louis’ back.  
  


* * *

  
  
The next night was Niall’s stag do. 

Louis had offered to throw Niall a _proper_ stag do, including party busses and strippers, but Niall had insisted he just wanted a casual night out at a club downtown. Louis was half disappointed that Niall didn’t want him to throw him a rager, because Louis definitely remembered how to party, but the other half of him was relieved that he didn’t have to watch women gyrate around a stage all night long.

“Those jeans are doing _wonders_ for your arse, by the way,” Harry said, smirking at him from the other side of the room. 

Louis rolled his eyes fondly, going back to fixing his fringe in the mirror. They had about another hour before they had to meet up with everyone at the club, but they would have to leave soon due to Friday night traffic. 

This time, Louis did hire a car. Because he planned on getting completely pissed and dragging Harry right along with him to drunk town, so the last thing he wanted to worry about was being sober enough to drive them back home at the end of the night. 

He also planned on making a completely sappy toast to Niall once he was significantly pissed. 

When his hair was finally sorted, he turned around and gave Harry a shameless up and down before whistling at him. Casual Harry was clearly left behind in Chance, because Model Harry was back in full force. He had on black trousers mixed with a silky white shirt, most of the buttons left undone so that his chest was exposed. 

“It’s always guaranteed to be a good night when you’ve got your tits out,” Louis said with a smirk, sliding up to Harry so he could grab at his waist. 

Harry laughed, scrunching his nose up fondly as he looked at Louis. “I know you can’t resist ‘em,” he joked, then looked down and squeezed his shoulders together as if that would make his chest appear bigger. Louis laughed, reaching up to poke him in the sternum playfully. 

“Was that your plan to seduce me all along, then?” Louis asked, teasing Harry with the memory that was burned into Louis’ brain. “Hmm? Showin’ up to my house for a casual Batman night with _these_ gals hanging out?” he asked, letting his fingertip drag down Harry’s flat chest until he reached where the buttons finally clasped his shirt together. 

Harry giggled but shivered all the same from Louis’ light touch. “Mmm… maybe.” 

“I knew it.” Louis’ eyes lit up. “I fucking _knew_ it.” Harry’s cheeks pinked up, even though he had no reason to be embarrassed, and Louis was living for his reaction. “You’re a bit shameless, aren’t ya?” 

“For you, yes,” Harry said, his nose scrunching again as he stared at Louis. 

“You drove me _crazy_ that night,” Louis said, letting his hand fall down to Harry’s waist to give it a squeeze. He leaned into Harry’s space to whisper against his ear, “Got me half hard just watchin’ you walk up me driveway.” 

Harry shivered against Louis’ words, and when Louis pulled back to look at him he was grinning. “Mission successful,” Harry said, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Louis snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a menace.” 

Harry just shrugged a shoulder casually. “Had to get you to make a move somehow.” 

“So you decided to torture me?” 

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, smiling brightly at him. 

“Well, you did a great job,” Louis laughed, squeezing Harry’s waist again. “By the time you were whipping out those yellow swim trunks, I was ready to pin you down and hump your leg,” Louis said, watching as Harry’s head tilted back and he let out a loud laugh.

“You know, when I went back home for a bit in July, I purposely made a trip out to my flat to find those.” 

Louis gawked at him, watching as Harry’s grin grew wider across his stupid, beautiful face. “You didn’t,” Louis said flatly, his jaw still hung open. 

“Oh, I did,” Harry chuckled, reaching out to grab Louis’ hips, grinning at him. “They’re my secret weapon.” 

“You’re kind of slutty,” Louis giggled, grinning like mad at him, his fingers digging into Harry’s waist harder. Harry laughed again, his throat exposed, making it very hard for Louis to resist attaching his mouth to it. 

“When the situation calls for it,” Harry fired back, matching Louis’ grin. 

And then Louis had to lean up and kiss him; there was no other appropriate response. 

Louis let his hands grip tight against Harry’s hips as he dragged his tongue across Harry’s bottom lip, Harry’s mouth finally parting as they deepened the kiss. Louis stepped forward as Harry stepped back until Louis was pressing him up against the wall behind them, Harry moaning weakly into the kiss. 

Louis shifted his knee up in between Harry’s thighs, causing another groan to leave Harry’s mouth as he gently ground down onto it. Louis finally pulled off of Harry’s mouth so he could breathe, wasting no time in attaching his lips to the side of Harry’s jaw instead as he tried to catch his breath against his heated skin. 

“We don’t--fuck--have time for this,” Harry said around a humorless chuckle, his breath catching in the middle of his sentence when Louis sucked harder against his pulse point. Louis hummed out his response, which basically read as _I don’t give a fuck,_ before attaching their lips again and letting one of his hands grip tightly into the back of Harry’s perfectly quaffed hair. 

Harry would definitely give him shit about that later, but it was too busy making him tremble right now to care. 

“Wanna suck you off,” Louis said against Harry’s mouth, loving the way Harry’s breath stuttered in response. “Right here against the wall. With your fancy fucking clothes still on.” Louis grinned, opening his eyes and pulling back just far enough to look up at Harry. They had only been kissing for a few minutes, Louis’ knee still pressing into where Harry’s hard cock was now pinned--still trapped in his fancy trousers--but it was enough to have Harry looking like he was gagging for it. 

“Fuck, Louis,” Harry groaned. 

A fresh wave of arousal shot through Louis as he stared at Harry’s lust-filled eyes, wanting nothing more than to blow off Niall’s party altogether and just stay here and ruin Harry for the rest of the night. 

But, he was the best man and it would be pretty rude--even for Louis--to ditch. 

So he was left with taking Harry apart while on a time crunch. 

“We’re gonna be--late,” Harry said, letting his head fall back against the wall as he ground down harder against Louis’ knee. 

Louis ignored him, and instead reached up to hotly whisper against his ear, “Want you to come in my mouth.” 

“Fuck,” Harry said, grabbing Louis by the hair with both hands and frantically connecting their lips together again in a heated kiss. “On your knees, babe,” Harry rushed out, both of his hands dropping to undo his trousers. Louis’ heart pounded as he gently dropped to his knees, grinning up at Harry as he wrapped his hands around the backs of Harry’s sensitive thighs, loving the way Harry was fumbling as he tried desperately to get his cock out. 

Louis’ own cock twitched in his tight jeans, fully hard and uncomfortable where it sat, so he took a moment to reach down and rub himself for some relief. He got distracted, though, when he was met with the sight of Harry’s cock. “Fuck, look at you,” Louis said, reaching out to wrap his fingers around him instead. “You’re so hard already.” 

“Fuck, please don’t--tease, Lou,” Harry said, letting the back of his head thud against the wall. Louis licked from base to tip, his ears heating up with the sounds of Harry’s moans as he circled the head. “We don’t have--time--to--” 

“Listen here, Big Ben, if you tell me about the time one more fucking time--” Louis cut himself off as they both fell into a round of laughter at his chosen nickname. Louis loved him so fucking much. Louis’ hand was still on his cock and his mouth still tasted of Harry, but they paused their heated moment to laugh fondly with each other. 

Harry, now clutching at his side, laughed out, “But we’re actually going to be late.” 

Louis tightened his grip on Harry’s cock, grinning up at him. “Do ya want your dick sucked or not?” 

_“I do,”_ Harry insisted, guiding Louis’ mouth back to his cock and moaning when it was engulfed into the tight wetness. Louis couldn’t respond, due to his mouth being full, but he was pleased with Harry’s reaction. Louis didn’t care how late they were to the party. Niall would be lucky if they showed up at all. “Fuck, that’s so good, _fuck,”_ Harry moaned. 

Louis desperately tried to undo the button of his jeans with one hand while the other was stroking Harry firmly. He was pretty sure his poor dick was suffocating in his jeans, but Harry was the priority here, so he didn’t dare stop what he was doing just to give his dick some breathing room. Giving up on the pesky button, Louis refocused his efforts and dragged his mouth back up Harry’s cock just enough to swirl his tongue around the head, a sting of arousal hitting his gut at Harry’s appreciative groan. 

“You’re so--good at that. _God,_ your _mouth,”_ Harry rambled, and when Louis looked up at him he had his head back against the wall again, the long line of his throat the only thing visible to Louis from his current position. Louis kind of wanted to wreck him. Louis trailed both of his hands around to Harry’s ass, not letting up on the suction as he bobbed on his cock, greedily grabbing two handfuls of his cheeks. 

Harry whined at the contact, pushing his ass further into Louis’ hands and tugging at his own hair. Louis pulled off his cock, stroking it with a firm grip as his other hand remained occupied. “You like me playing with your arse?” Louis panted, out of breath and his voice sounding destroyed already. 

“Fuck yes, you know I do,” Harry whined again, bucking up into Louis’ fist and then back into his squeezing palms. 

“Turn around,” Louis ordered, dropping Harry’s cock and moving his hand to Harry’s hip, helping him spin around so that he was facing the wall, his pale ass now directly in front of Louis’ face. Louis licked his bottom lip, looking up at where Harry was still fully dressed up top, his breath catching in his throat a bit at how hot it was.

He focused on where the fabric bulged around Harry’s shoulders, from where he was braced against the wall, and realized he was practically drooling. Fuck. His own cock ached with the need to be touched, so he decided to focus on that for a moment while he let Harry wither against the wall. 

Regardless of Harry rushing them, Louis knew he liked to be patient sometimes.

Louis popped the button of his fly, shoving his jeans and briefs down until he could wrap a glorious hand around himself, moaning loudly at the contact and his eyes focused on Harry’s arse. Harry moaned at the sound, whining up against the wall, knowing exactly what Louis was doing. 

“Fuck, do you even know how you look right now?” Louis asked, his eyes rolling back in his head at the sweet relief of finally getting a hand around himself. 

“Louis,” Harry moaned. “Come on, please.” And _fuck,_ that was pretty. How could Louis resist that? Louis’ knee gave off a painful crack when he readjusted his stance, but that was for Future Louis to worry about. Right now, all Louis cared about was getting his mouth around Harry’s pretty hole as soon as possible. 

The first swipe of his tongue was always the same for Louis: an overload of all his senses. 

Musk. Spice. _Man._

Louis fucking loved it. 

Louis moaned into it, spreading Harry’s cheeks with his palms and swiping his tongue across him again. The sounds coming out of Harry’s mouth were going straight to Louis’ cock. He was whining and moaning and his breath kept hitching and _Louis was going to come in his pants._

Louis was always dangerously close to coming in his pants around Harry, but whenever he got to eat his ass out, the danger became a reality. 

Louis was so easy for this. 

Louis breathed into it, his chin nudging along Harry’s perineum, his tongue sweeping and pressing against his hole and straining to hear the noises Harry was making. “Fuck,” Louis said, pausing to press his tongue harder into Harry’s hole, wishing he had lube so he could really go at it. “You taste so fucking good,” Louis moaned, giving him long sweeps of his tongue from bottom to top. 

“Lou--Lou, _fuck,”_ Harry squeaked, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the wall. 

Louis sucked his middle finger into his mouth, getting it as wet as possible before letting it pop out, and this time when he went back in with his tongue, he gently pressed in his middle finger alongside it. 

Harry _lost it._

He began mewling loudly, pushing his ass back into Louis’ face, one hand coming around to thread into the back of Louis’ hair, begging him when he said, _“Please, Louis.”_

“I’ve got you,” Louis said, his words muffled into Harry’s skin. “I’ll take care of you.”  
  


***

They were the last ones to arrive at the club.

They walked in almost an hour late, hand and hand, Harry’s cheeks still looking flushed and his quiff looking a lot worse for the wear.

Louis regretted nothing. 

He hadn’t planned on his spur-of-the-moment blowjob to escalate into full on sex, but, like, he wasn’t complaining. 

The club they were in was on the small side, though it was still just as loud and dark as any other club Louis had ever been to. The bass coming from the speakers was so loud he could feel it in his chest, and when Harry leaned in to say that he saw the boys at a booth in the corner, he had to yell a lot louder than either of them expected. 

Thankfully the speakers seemed to be pointing away from the large half-circle booth and they could actually hear it when Niall yelled, “Louis! Harry!” while raising his arm up in the air, his beer splashing out the side of his glass and down onto the table. Louis grinned, seeing Niall for the first time since he had left Chance back in July, and he let go of Harry’s hand when Niall jumped up to greet them. 

Louis didn’t hesitate to wrap Niall up in a big hug, squeezing him tightly before slapping him on the back a few times. “It’s the bachelor!” Louis exclaimed when they finally pulled apart, grinning from ear to ear at him. “It’s so good to see you, mate!” he said honestly, pulling Niall in for another hug. 

It hadn’t been that long since Niall left Chance, but, like, Louis was always going to miss his best friend and be super happy when they were reunited. So. 

“I’m happy you fucks could make it! Haz! Bring it in!” Niall said over the loud thumping of the bass, pulling away from Louis’ second hug and opening his arms up wide for Harry. That was when Louis noticed none other than Liam Payne sitting at the booth behind them, sipping on--what appeared to be--a fresh gin and tonic.

His brown hair was shaggier than the last time Louis had seen him, but it was still perfectly swooped up in the front and he somehow made the denim jacket he was wearing seem _cool,_ even though it was paired with jeans. 

Leave it to Liam to make double denim an acceptable fashion choice. 

“Liam _fucking_ Payne,” Louis said, not realizing that it was possible for his smile to get any wider. But when Liam looked up from his drink and _beamed_ at Louis, that same puppy dog smile he always had, Louis thought his own face was going to split in two from how happy he was. Liam quickly set down his glass, jumping up from the table and all but attacking Louis in a bear hug. 

“Tommo!” he exclaimed, squeezing Louis tight before pulling back, his hands gripping Louis’ shoulders tightly. _“Fuck_ it’s good to see you!” 

“Mate, it has been too long,” Louis gawked, and, like, it really had been. The last time he had seen Liam in person, not including FaceTime or Skype, was well over a year and a half ago. They never seemed to be in the same place at the same time. But here he was, standing in front of Louis in all his double denim glory and--Louis had to hug him again. 

Apparently he was a double hugger tonight. 

Liam went into the second hug happily, clapping Louis on the back a few times before they pulled away again. 

“I didn’t think you were coming!” Louis exclaimed. 

“I didn’t either!” Liam laughed, shaking his head. Louis watched as he reached down to grab his glass and take a sip of his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he continued, “I didn’t think I could get away. Or that Cheryl would let me,” he added, smiling brightly. 

“How’s dad life treating you?” Louis asked, reaching forward to grab Liam’s drink out of his hand and take a sip of the sharp beverage. Liam allowed it without question, because he would always secretly be wrapped around Louis’ finger. 

“Mate, I’m still loving it. I can’t believe how big he’s gotten,” Liam said, shamelessly pulling his phone out to show him a picture of the toddler, as if Louis didn’t regularly get pictures of him. But, like, Louis loved babies. So he traded Liam his drink back to grab his phone instead and zoomed in on the picture of the grinning two-and-a-half-year-old. 

“He looks just like you, bro,” Louis said, his eyes wide with amusement. 

“Right? Poor little lad,” Liam laughed, shaking his head. “Should have gotten his mama’s good looks.” 

Louis just rolled his eyes. “Right. Because you’re so ugly,” he said sarcastically, making Liam snort into his gin and tonic, which only reminded Louis he was still drinkless. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to spot Harry at the bar grabbing them drinks, but frowned when he saw he was still caught up in a conversation with Niall. Louis turned back around and grabbed Liam’s drink again, sipping the rest through the straw and grinning at Liam. 

“You’re such a twat,” Liam laughed. “That was full before you got here.” 

Louis just shrugged, happily sipping the last few drops through the black straw before handing the empty glass back to Liam. It was only then that Louis realized he hadn’t even finished greeting everybody at the booth, getting caught up in talking to Liam and then stealing his drink. 

He stepped around Liam to bump fists with Bressie and Tom, his smile widening when his eyes locked on Mark Jarvis. 

He hadn’t seen him in _years._

“Mark, you son of a bitch, you better get up and hug me,” he demanded, grinning from ear to ear. 

Once all of the greetings were out of the way, and he had double-hugged a couple more people, he slid back over to where Niall and Harry were still talking. What the fuck could they possibly be talking about for this long?

At a _stag do?_

When Louis got within earshot, though, he was not surprised to find they were talking about golf. 

They might as well be in their fifties, having a midlife crisis.

“--But I only had a chance to play the back nine. I really want to go back soon and play a full round,” Niall was saying, Harry nodding along and parting his lips to reply, when Louis cut in. 

“Hello there! I’m thirsty!” 

“Hi, Thirsty. I’m Niall,” he said, instantly jutting his hand out to shake. 

Louis gave him an unamused face. “You sure Lil’s not pregnant? Because that was on a whole new level of dad joke,” he said flatly. 

Niall cackled, quickly brushing him off when he said, “Nahhhh. Safe sex is the best sex.” 

Louis just shook his head. “You’re gonna make a fantastic old married lad.” 

“Right?” Niall laughed, tipping his glass to cheers Louis when he frowned at the lack of drink in Louis’ hands. 

“That’s what I’m fucking saying!” Louis groaned, turning to Harry. “Why are we drinkless?!” 

“Sorry, my dear,” Harry said condescendingly, but all the same he continued with, “what did you want to drink?” 

Louis licked his lip, the sharp taste of the drink he had stolen from Liam still on his tastebuds. “G&T,” he said with a nod of his head. “If it’s good enough for Payno, it’s good enough for me.” 

“I haven’t even said hi yet!” Harry gasped, whipping around and throwing his arms up in the air when he yelled, “Payno!” 

“Great,” Louis huffed, turning back to Niall. “Now I’m _never_ gonna get a drink.” 

Niall laughed. “Come on then, cutie, let’s go get you a drink,” he said, locking arms with Louis and leading him away from their booth towards the bar. They weaved their way through the crowd, arms still linked, and finally separated when they pressed up against the bar and waited to be served. “So, Tommo, how’s everything going?” 

Louis laughed, giving Niall a weird look. “Mate, we were literally texting a few hours ago.” 

Niall shrugged, a happy smile still plastered on his face. Louis chuckled again, reaching out and grabbing Niall’s pint glass from his hand and taking a sip of the cold beverage. Niall, much like Liam, just let it happen and accepted the glass back when Louis had his fill. 

“You and Haz still in the honeymoon phase, then?” Niall asked again, nudging Louis and grinning at him. 

“I mean, I ate his arse out pretty good right before we got here, so, yeah, I’d say so.” 

Niall didn’t even cringe; he just casually brought the bottom of his shirt up to swipe around the rim of his glass. “Don’t mind me, just wiping Harry’s _arse_ off my glass,” he groaned, rolling his eyes before taking another sip. 

Louis cackled, bracing against the bar and shaking his head. 

Niall was the best. 

“Don’t worry, mate, I brushed me teeth before we left.” 

“Shameless,” Niall said around a grin, knocking back the rest of his beer before adding, “just fucking shameless.” 

“I’ve missed you,” Louis said, grinning at him. “Let’s get real pissed tonight, okay?” 

“Deal.” 

And that’s exactly what they did.

It wasn’t until after G&T number five that Louis switched to beer. When Harry advised him against it, Louis just brushed him off with a casual, “Just remember the rhyme, curly! Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear. Beer before _liquor_ , never been _sicker._ I’ll be fine!”

But, like, maybe he should have taken Harry’s advice, because a few beers later, he had drunkenly stumbled up to the DJ and was ready to make a complete fool of himself. He clapped hands with the guy, introducing himself and asking him for a drunken favor. The DJ just grinned in response, hurriedly grabbing a microphone for Louis before ending the song that was playing. 

All eyes turned to where the DJ was, due to the lack of music, and when their booth realized it was Louis standing up there, everyone started whistling and hollering at him. Louis blushed, even with his liquid courage, playing it off as he said, “Okay, now, settle down there, lads. Don’t start throwin’ your knickers at me yet.” 

The spotlight was blinding, but he could still see the fond look on Harry’s eyes. He blamed that for the reason he said, _into the microphone,_ “Except you, Styles, you can feel free to toss ‘em up.” The room exploded with laughter and more whistles, Louis watching as Niall roughed up Harry’s hair and yelled something at him that had Harry blushing all over. 

It was worth it. 

He may have just publicly outed them, but, like, they had shown up hand in hand already. 

This was just verbal confirmation. 

This was Future Louis’ problem. 

Louis coughed. “Anyway, um, hi everyone, I’m Louis--” another round of loud cheers and whistles happened, which he was quick to talk over-- ”erm… some of you may know this, but our very own Niall Horan over there is getting married tomorrow and _I_ am the best man. That’s right, Payno, you can just suck a fat dick.” 

Louis was aware that Niall’s stag do wasn’t the only event happening in this club. There were about a hundred people in the dark club, all with their attention turned and listening to Louis. Maybe some of them knew who they were--ex-boybanders--or maybe they thought it was just a normal stag do. Louis didn’t care. 

He looked over and smiled fondly at their group, winking at Liam, who was flipping him the bird. 

“And _as_ your best man,” he continued, gesturing at Niall, “I wanted to do a little something for you. I won’t bore you with how amazing you are in bed, or how fond I am of your little, pale arse,” Louis laughed, the crowd cheering loudly again. “Instead I wanted to dedicate this song to you. To my best mate in the entire world--” Louis raised his glass ”--here’s to you, lad.” 

The crowd all cheered again; everyone seemed to raise their glass up in the air as Louis happily took a sip of his beer before handing the DJ back his microphone. He bumped fists with the man, thanking him again, just as the soft guitar riff started and suddenly Nsync’s This I Promise you was blasting out through the speakers.

Another loud round of cheers and laughter happened when the crowd began to recognize the song, and Louis was absolutely beaming by the time he locked eyes with Niall. He watched as Niall shoved his way out of the booth, setting his pint down before running and pouncing on Louis.

If he had been sober, he probably would have caught him, but. Like. He wasn’t. So the pair went stumbling down to the sticky club floor, laughing loudly as they hit the ground. 

“You love me so much!” Niall cackled, leaning down to place smacking, beer-covered kisses over Louis’ cheeks. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Louis laughed, pushing Niall off him and stumbling back to his feet. “How could I not?” 

Niall threw his head back and laughed, grabbing up Louis’ hand and putting his arm around his waist in a very formal dancing position, swaying the two of them back and forth to the beat. Louis laughed loudly, going along with the slow waltz-type dance they were doing, loving his best friend and loving his life. 

He looked over Niall’s blonde head, making eye contact with Harry who was smiling from ear to ear at him. He was mouthing along with the words, _I’ll be your strength, I’ll give you hope_ and Louis couldn’t wait to stumble back over and kiss him again. But for right now, he focused his attention back on Niall and happily sang along with him when the chorus started up. 

“And I will take! You in my arms!” Louis and Niall both sang out at the top of their lungs. “And hold you right where you belongggg!” The crowd around them were mostly laughing at the pair, and Louis was aware that some people even had phones turned towards them, but in that moment--he couldn’t care any less. 

He was very drunk and very happy and surrounded by the people he loved most in life. 

He didn’t give a fuck what happened or who saw. 

_Let the world see._

He wasn’t ashamed of his life at all. 

“Til the day my life is through, this I promise you… this I promise you!”  
  


* * *

  
  
True to their word, Niall and Lily had a very small, very private ceremony at a London court house the next morning. Louis looked over at Harry and was ready to rib him for actually _crying_ during the ceremony, but when Harry looked over at him with cloudy eyes and a proud smile, all the teasing died in his throat. Instead, he reached down and grabbed Harry’s hand and brought it to his lips before turning his attention back to their friends. 

And if he got a little misty himself when Niall kissed Lily to make it official and then turned to give Louis a huge thumbs up, _no one had to know._

The reception was held in a small restaurant on the other side of town. The fifteen or so of them sat around a long table, Lottie on one side of Louis, Harry on the other--because _she had actually wedding-crashed and that hadn’t been a joke--_ and they drank mimosas and ate brunch. Louis couldn’t help but lean back at one point and smile as he looked around the table, especially when he saw the look of pure happiness on Niall’s face as he obnoxiously fed Lily a bite of his food. 

It was crazy for Louis to think that somehow, against all odds, they all seemed to make it. 

Back when they were all teenagers and jet-setting around the world as pop stars, he never imagined they’d get to a point in their life when they all had-- _this._

They had each other. 

They had someone to love. 

They had _happiness._

There were times when Louis didn’t think it was possible for any of them to have a happily ever after, but as he looked around the table now at all the smiling faces he knew that everything was going to be okay. 

He reached out and grabbed Harry’s thigh under the table, turning his head and smiling at him when they made eye contact. Louis leaned over and whispered, “I love you, you know?” 

Harry smiled with all his teeth showing, placing his hand down over Louis’ and whispering back, “I know.” 

And that was all Louis needed to hear.  
  


***

The drive up to Doncaster took about three hours.

They had left right after the reception, hugging everybody goodbye and promising that they would see them soon (Louis was also sure he invited everyone, Niall’s family included, to come visit them in Chance). Lottie and Tommy were in the back seat, since they were carpooling up north with them and would ride back with Fiz, and at one point Harry threatened to _“Turn this car around!”_ if Louis and Lottie didn’t stop bickering. 

But, like, it was all out of love. 

That was what siblings did.

That was how Louis showed he cared. 

He grinned at Lottie, shooting her a wink over his shoulder before focusing his attention back on the M1 in front of them. When Harry finally pulled into his family’s driveway, Louis thought they were all a little relieved to get out of the car. Even before Harry could cut the engine, though, Louis spotted two sets of eyes popping up through the front window and his heart instantly melted at the barely-there sight of the youngest twins. 

He opened the door, jogging up to the house and leaving Harry, Lottie and Tommy to bring in their bags and whatnot. He hadn’t seen his littlest siblings in entirely too long and he wasn’t going to wait another second. He opened the door, listening as little feet came slapping across the wooden floor before two children (not babies, _not toddlers,_ Christ, they were basically grown) slid around the corner. 

“Louis!” Doris squealed happily, running directly into Louis’ legs and wrapping her tiny arms around him. 

“Hello, beautiful girl,” he said around a bright smile, kneeling down to wrap his arms around her small frame. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said into her mop of curls, squeezing her a bit tighter and then digging his fingers into her sides to make her laugh. She giggled loudly in his ears, squirming away from him and clutching her sides. 

He looked over at his little brother, watching as he shyly kicked at the ground and avoided Louis’ gaze. It was about to break his heart, but then Ernest finally looked up and smiled shyly at him and said, with his thick speech impediment, “Hi, Ooie.” 

“Come here, buddy,” he choked out, opening his arms and waiting for the five year old to dart into them. 

Just then, the pair of teenage twins, Phoebe and Daisy, came running around the corner with his step-dad, Dan, following along behind them. 

“Louis! You’re _finally_ here!” Phoebe said, always the affectionate one out of the two, throwing herself into the hug he was sharing with his baby brother. Louis laughed fondly, bringing one arm up around her back and hugging her tightly. Doris must have gotten jealous then, because she threw herself back into the mix too and knocked Louis flat on his arse with the force of it. 

Louis was so happy he could cry.

But, like, he won’t. Because--he was masculine. 

…

Louis looked up at Daisy, at her dyed black hair and dark clothing, while his other siblings continued to attack him. “You still too cool for your older brother, then?” he teased, grinning at her even wider when her lip twitched into a smirk. 

“You’re nothing special,” she said with a shrug, though now she was fully grinning at him and all he heard was _I missed you._

It was okay; he didn’t need a real hug. She had never been a hugger and he could respect that. (He would just wait til she was tired and more cuddly to pull her into his side and whisper about how much he missed her.) 

“Lou,” Dan said, smiling at him from where he had propped himself against the doorframe. He looked a little older around the eyes, Louis noted, but that was probably from raising all these kids alone. Of course he had lots of help, not only from Lottie and Fiz, but from other family members and close friends. 

But Louis could see the tiredness in his eyes and he recognized it from when he was a kid, watching his mum raise all of them alone, and he noted it was the same look. 

Louis extracted himself from the dog-pile he was in, patting each of his siblings on the head (Daisy, included), before walking over to Dan with his arms wide open. They embraced quickly, Dan gripping his shoulders when he pulled back and said, “How are you, son?” 

And, like, Louis really loved him a lot. 

“I’m really good,” Louis answered honestly, his smile wide across his face. “It’s great to see you.” 

“You, too,” Dan said with a smile. “Where’s your boy?” 

“Oh, he’s around here somewhere,” Louis said, shrugging lightly and knowing that Harry was probably taking extra long to unload the car to make sure Louis had time to greet everyone by himself first. Because Harry was perfect and knew how much it meant to see his family for the first time in months. “Where’s Fiz?” he asked. 

_“Félicité,”_ Dan not-so-subtly corrected, “went out to the pub with some mates, but she’ll be back soon.” 

“I guess a little bit of day drinking never hurt anybody,” Louis laughed, shaking his head. 

Dan chuckled, shrugging when he said, “It’s been a few weekends since she’s been home, so I’m sure she has catching up to do.” 

“Right.” Louis nodded. “Wouldn’t want to catch up with her brother _who lives in America,”_ he joked, holding no real grudge and knowing that he would have plenty of time that evening to bicker with Fiz, just like he did with Lottie. 

He was also buying everyone plane tickets to come visit him before he left; he had decided that on their trip up here. 

He wasn’t going this long without seeing his family ever again. 

When Harry finally did make it inside, Phoebe and even too-cool-for-hugs Daisy both pounced on him, commenting on everything from his cool clothes to his cool hair. “Last time I saw you, your hair was down to your shoulders!” Phoebe exclaimed. 

“Last time I saw _you,_ you were still in _nappies,”_ Harry teased, scrunching his nose fondly at them. 

“No we weren’t!” Phoebe cackled. 

Louis watched as Doris and Ernest scattered, hiding behind Dan’s legs and peeking around him to look at Harry and-- _right._ They… didn’t know Harry. Louis was hit with another wave of sadness, for very different reasons now, but it was only temporary as he watched Harry crouch down on the floor and smile at them. 

“Hello,” he said, waving gently at the five-year-olds. “I’m Harry. You have very pretty hair,” he said, smiling at Doris. “And look at your shoes! Is that Spiderman on the side?” he asked Ernest, and, _fuck_ Louis loved how amazing Harry was with kids. 

“You ‘ike spideymen?” Ernest asked around his thumb, which was not helping his already wonky speech. 

Louis was endeared. 

“I _love_ spiderman!” Harry said, his smile bright. “I also love _Catwoman.”_

There was a moment of silence between them before Ernest smiled brightly around his thumb and said, “Meow.” 

Louis was pretty sure his heart melted straight out of his body.  
  


* * *

  
  
Their short weekend in Doncaster seemed to go by in a blink of an eye. 

Looking back, Louis should have scheduled more than just two nights to spend with his family when he knew he wouldn't want to leave, but Past Louis could be an unthoughtful dick, so, there was that. Their days were spent lounging around with all of the kids, Harry mostly sitting on the floor and going along with every single game the youngest twins wanted to play (which changed about every ten minutes, less a fight break out), while Louis sat on the couch with sisters on either side of him. 

He felt loved, and cozy, and when they were all packed up and ready to head to Cheshire, he didn’t try to hide the tears that spilled down his cheeks when he hugged all of his siblings goodbye. 

“We’ll see you at Christmas, yeah?” Dan asked when they pulled away from their hug. “Thanks again for buying the tickets… I know it means a lot to everyone.” 

“Of course,” Louis insisted, clapping his hand on Dan’s shoulder. “I’ll be counting down the days!” Louis joked, except--he wasn’t really joking. The past two days had only served to remind him how much he missed having his family around. 

“You ready to go, love?” Harry asked, standing by the door with Doris on his hip, even though she was awfully big to be held like a baby. Louis loved him. He nodded, going back down the line of his siblings to give them all another too-tight hug before finally tearing himself away and grabbing his bag. He watched as Harry set Doris down with hushed whispers about there being a present left for her upstairs in Louis’ room. 

So apparently Harry Styles played favorites. 

But, who was he to judge when Harry was Louis’ favorite person in the _entire world?_

At least Harry was only playing favorites within his family. 

Louis played favorites within the _entire human population._

Louis had no regrets.

With the car loaded up, Louis took one last weepy look at his house, with his whole family standing outside waving to him like something off an old television show, before he forced himself to look away and over at Harry instead. 

“Alright?” Harry asked, reaching over to grab Louis’ hand. 

“Alright,” he answered, swallowing the lump in his throat. They had about a two-hour drive over to Holmes Chapel, which gave Louis two hours to freak out about seeing Harry’s family for the first time in years. No big deal. Harry gently kissed Louis’ knuckles as he steered them away from Doncaster and out onto the motorway. 

“What did you buy Doris?” Louis finally asked. 

“A bunch of coloring books. Did you know she wants to be an artist?” 

Louis smiled fondly at him, so happy that Harry was able to slip back into his family as if he had never left. 

Their journey up to Holmes Chapel was mostly spent in comfortable silence, the radio playing quietly in the background as the two of them got lost in their own worlds. Louis was already missing his family, but he was trying not to let it bring him down; he didn’t want to be moping the rest of the evening. 

When they pulled into Anne's driveway some two hours later, Harry turned the engine off and smiled over at Louis. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he laughed, reaching over and grabbing Louis’ hand again, comfortingly rubbing it between his own. And, right, Louis must not have been hiding his emotions as well as he thought he had. “I promise you they still love you.” 

“I know.” Louis smiled, nodding a bit. “Let’s go in, yeah?” 

Harry beamed. “Yeah.” 

He stepped out of the car into the chilly autumn air and shivered a bit when he reached down to zip his hoodie up. He chuckled a bit to himself, thinking about how it was probably still a hundred degrees at home, yet England had already turned cold. 

He didn’t _miss_ the heat of Chance just yet, but he was sure if he stayed here in rainy England for too long, he would start. 

After grabbing their bags from the boot, they made their way up the lined pathway to the front door and Louis took a deep breath in as Harry unlocked the door and opened it for them. “Hello?” he called out, as Louis removed his shoes and placed them neatly by the door, mostly to give him something to do with his hands. “Mum?” 

“Harry!” Anne’s unmistakeable voice echoed in the hallway, Louis turning to look over his shoulder as she rounded the corner. She had a lacy apron around her waist and was wiping her hands off on a tea towel, looking proper domestic, and he watched as Anne hugged Harry tightly. 

He hung back near the door, giving them a minute to greet each other, but then Anne was turning to face him and he suddenly felt his cheeks flush, not knowing what to expect or what she was going to say. She was quick to give him a soft smile, though, her eyes looking a bit glassy as she said, “Oh, baby, come here and give me a cuddle.” 

And that was exactly what Louis did. 

He tried to hold back the sob that wanted to escape his lungs, instead making an awkward squeaking sound as he wrapped his arms around her back, hugging her tightly and trying to convey just by how strongly he embraced her how sorry he was for ever hurting her son. 

It was a bit of a cop-out, on Louis’ part, but he was never great with words anyway. 

When they finally pulled apart, Anne seemed to take in his appearance for a moment before frowning at him. “Why are you so skinny?” And--that had Louis laughing. Because he was sure he had gained twenty pounds since Harry had returned to his life, since everything they did seemed to revolve around food. 

“I--” Louis opened his mouth on a laugh, not knowing how to answer her question. 

He was quickly cut off though by Harry’s hissed, _“Mum._ You can’t ask people that.” 

Anne chuckled, shrugging before leaning forward to place a kiss on Louis’ cheeks--which definitely didn’t help how warm they were--then swatted at Harry with her tea towel. “I can ask Louis whatever I want, isn’t that right, love? It’s a mum privilege.” 

“Right,” Louis agreed dumbly, smiling genuinely at her. He was sure it had to be genetic that Harry’s whole family seemed to render him stupid. He was so _gone_ for every member of his family, so Anne was right. She _could_ ask him anything. 

“Harry, be a duck and go help Gems with the firewood, would you?” she asked fondly. 

“Sure,” Harry quickly agreed, eyeing the pair for a moment before making eye contact with Louis and silently asking him _Will you be okay?_ Because--right. He was about to abandon him with his mum right off the bat. 

Way to be the buffer, Harry. 

Spectacular job. 

But Louis was an adult, who could handle any social situation he was thrown in, so he smiled at him and nodded that he was fine.

Anne linked arms with him then, steering them back towards the kitchen where Louis could smell something baking in the oven. “We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we, darling?” she asked, leading him towards the table and nodding for him to sit. “Tea?” 

“Tea would be lovely,” Louis said with a smile, gently pulling one of the kitchen chairs out and sitting down at the old wooden table. Anne busied herself with putting the kettle on, and Louis took a moment to look around the kitchen, his hand trailing over the wood of the table that he noted hadn’t changed since the last time he was here. 

He imagined it hadn’t changed in, well, forever, really. 

He could almost see a chubby child version of Harry finger painting and making an absolute mess across the table, and then crying about how sorry he was because, like, Harry Styles was perfect. 

Louis shook himself of this thoughts when Anne set a ceramic tea pot down on the table, along with two mugs and a tiny pitcher of milk. Louis busied himself by pouring the water into both mugs, chewing on the inside of his lip as he tried desperately to come up with something to say. 

What was there to say, really? 

_Sorry I broke your son’s heart?_

_Sorry I’m back?_

_Sorry I waited eight years?_

_Sorry I suck?!?!?!_

No excuse seemed worthy, so instead he just stayed silent, watching out of the corner of his eye as she flitted around the kitchen, happily humming to herself just like Harry did. She finally sat down across from him, sliding one of the scones--which she had produced seemingly out of thin air--in front of him. Louis smiled, thanking her quietly before picking a corner off the crumbly bread and popping it in his mouth. 

“So, Louis,” Anne said, and-- _this was it._ This was when she was going to curse him out for all the horrible things he had done in his life. Louis braced himself, staring hard at the side of his mug and willing his heart rate down. 

Then he realized he should probably just apologize. 

Get the ball rolling between them and clear the air before things got too awkward. 

So he cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry for--” 

Just as Anne said, “Have you caught up on The Bake Off since you’ve been back?” 

And--like--wait. _What?_

“What?” Louis asked, just as she said: 

“Sorry for what, love?” 

And, okay, they had to stop talking over each other.

Louis snapped his mouth shut, determined to stop being rude and talking all over Anne, so he just watched silently as her cheery smile slid down into a frown. “What are you apologizing for, love?” she asked again, her fingers clenched around her steaming mug of tea. 

Louis coughed. “For, like--” _being the worst person in the world?_ He finally just shrugged helplessly. “You know.” 

Anne clucked at him, shaking her head as she reached forward and grabbed his hand that had been mindlessly tearing apart his scone, her tea-warmed fingers wrapping softly around his. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for,” she said quietly. 

“Well, that’s not true at all,” Louis laughed humorlessly. “I’ve got plenty to--” 

“That’s between you and Harry,” Anne said, gently cutting him off. “You’ve got nothing to apologize to _me_ for.” 

Louis paused, taking in her words with a frown. “You’re not…” _mad?_

Anne smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “I’m glad you boys finally got your act together and realized you were supposed to be together all along. It sure did take you long enough. I’ve missed you quite a lot, you know?” Louis just sat there, with a dumb expression on his face, taking in her words and trying to process them. His expression must have given away his confusion because Anne finally laughed, squeezing his hand again before saying, “Seriously, Louis, _we’re fine.”_

Louis didn’t know how he got this lucky. 

“Okay,” Louis whispered, smiling at her. “I’ve missed you a lot, too…” he trailed off, squeezing her fingers. “And to answer your first question,” Louis paused, taking his first sip of too-hot tea before he continued, “I have _not_ seen The Bake Off… want to fill me in?”  
  


* * *

  
  
On their last day in England, they decided to head out of the house and take a walk around town. Harry wanted to see the town before he left the country for an undetermined amount of time (!!!!) and Louis would follow Harry to the edge of the earth, so, like, that was how he easily agreed to wander with him. They had gone to the bakery where Harry used to work, spending almost an hour there talking to his old co-workers and Louis not-so-subtly shoving different baked goods into his mouth.

Harry pretended not to notice. 

After that, they had stopped in for lunch at a tiny restaurant with a few mates Harry had gone to school with. Louis had met some of them before, others just for the first time that day, but the lunch was spent sharing old stories (mostly about Harry), and laughing about one thing or another. 

By the time they left the restaurant, their bellies were full and they both had cry-laughed their way into a pretty exhausted state. 

Louis was definitely sleeping the entire way back to Chance that night. 

They decided to take the long way home, walking through the fields along the small stream that went through Holmes Chapel, Harry having brought Louis here once before years and years ago. At some point they joined hands, Harry’s thumb rubbing along Louis’ palm as they made their slow walk, Harry stopping to point out where he had carved his name into the brick while filming This Is Us. 

In the years since then, hundreds of other people had scribbled their name alongside his, but it didn’t seem to bother Harry. If anything, he seemed proud that all those people had found this spot just because of him. 

“You got a knife?” Louis asked, looking up at the different carvings against the faded brick wall. He looked over at Harry then, only to find him biting down on his smile as he shook his head no. Louis rolled his eyes playfully. “Useless, you are,” he said, kicking at some of the stones along the ground until he found one that he deemed pointy enough. 

Louis cleared his throat, aware of Harry’s eyes on him from behind as he swept his hand over the brick wall, finding an empty space before bringing the rock up to the wall and began painstakingly scratching against it. His tongue peeked out the side of his mouth as he concentrated, his fingers slipping against the rock a few times and painfully crashing into the brick, but he kept going, determined now that the idea had crossed his mind. 

Halfway through his carving, Harry’s hands found their way to his waist and he stepped up close to him, Louis able to feel Harry’s breath against the back of his neck. He kept going, though, the sound of the rock scratching into the brick the only sound between them. Harry nuzzled against his hair then, causing a shiver to go up his spine, but he laughed it off, flicking his fringe out of his eyes as he focused on the letters. 

Finally, he was done. He dropped the rock to the ground, clapping the dust off his hands and then gently swiping over the carving to remove any extra shavings, reaching behind him to guide Harry so they could take a step back from the wall. 

Harry’s arms snuck around his waist then, his chin hooking over Louis’ shoulder, and Louis leaned his head into it, his arms wrapping around Harry’s. He looked up at the brick wall, looking at all the names and markings until his eyes focused on his latest addition. 

_H + L Forever_

It was stupid, and cheesy, and gag-worthy. 

Not to mention there were already at least three references to Larry hidden amongst all the carvings; his turned that number into four. He was sure that anybody else who saw it would assume another fan had done it, and that made it even more special to him. 

It was perfect. 

“I love it,” Harry whispered against his ear, pulling Louis further into him. “Thank you.” 

Louis huffed an amused breath, leaning his head further into Harry’s and letting his eye close. “You don’t have to _thank me_ , you dork.” 

“Mmm, but I do,” Harry hummed. “Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for--taking me back.” 

“Harry,” Louis whispered, opening his eyes and turning in his arms so they were facing each other. They smiled at each other, Louis reaching out to cup Harry’s cheek and rub his thumb along his sharp jaw line. “There’s no one else in the world I want.” 

“I know,” Harry said with a smile. “It’s a pretty great feeling,” he said, chuckling quietly. 

Louis laughed, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and tilting his head against his shoulder to glance up at Harry. Louis was often overwhelmed by his love for Harry, and he hoped that feeling never went away. He never wanted to get used to loving Harry, or become immune to the effects he had over Louis. 

He always wanted to feel… _this._

This crazy, heart-pounding, scare-the-shit-out-of-you kind of love. 

He hoped that when he was ninety, he still wanted to climb his way up to the highest mountain and yell about how much he loved Harry Styles with all his heart. How there was nobody else in the world he had ever wanted to end up with. How he wanted to wake up to those stupidly beautiful green eyes every day for the rest of his life. 

He wanted to marry him. 

He wanted to have kids with him. 

He wanted to grow fat and old with him, and tell the stories that they’d told again and again. 

He wanted to make up for all the lost time between them and never waste another second. 

He wanted to go back home to their little house in Chance and start living their future now. 

He wanted to become that sickeningly sweet family who participated in all of the town events, and threw barbecues for the whole neighborhood, and who coordinated the carpools for all their kids’ after-school activities. 

He never wanted to spend another moment apart from Harry. 

He promised himself there, just like he had promised himself before, that he would do everything in his power to make Harry happy for the rest of their lives. No matter what it took to accomplish that. He would love Harry, and do cutesy things like carve their initials in his hometown, and make sure that all of their dreams came true. 

Because after all they had been through, they deserved it. 

When they were sixteen and eighteen, they were given a chance at a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make it big. Together, with three other strangers, they became the biggest boy band on the planet. They toured the world, became millionaires, and changed thousands of lives along the way. In doing that, they were given a chance to love each other, which they greedily grabbed onto and ran with so hard that they ended up losing it along the way. 

When they were twenty-six and twenty-nine, they were given a chance to find that love again. By some crazy force of the universe, they were able to find each other thousands of miles away from where they were both supposed to be living and somehow learn to love each other again. 

_The fucking odds, man._

This time, Louis wasn’t letting it go anywhere. 

“Hey, Haz?” Louis whispered, smiling up at the boy that he had loved forever. 

“Yeah, babe?” Harry whispered back, their eyes locked. 

“Let’s go home.” 

 

**THE END.**

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Janice voice*** Ohhhhhhhhhhh Myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Goddddddd. 
> 
> I AM SO EMOTIONAL. LOOK HOW FAR THEY’VE COME. LOOK HOW FAR _WE’VE_ COME. 
> 
> Hi everybody! I can’t believe this is over. I’m really at a loss for words. I finished writing this story early in the morning on June 15th and promptly burst into tears. Because one, I’m a crier now--I’ve accepted this. (I grew up with stone cold emotions and never cried, but somehow over the last year or so I’ve become a weeper. So whatever.) And two, because _it was finally fucking done, omg omg omg._
> 
> I then promptly opened a bottle of champagne (that I had specifically bought the night before _for that exact reason_ ) and proceeded to drink half of it straight from the bottle. At 9AM. I didn’t mix it with orange juice or anything; I’m fucking wild. 
> 
> This story is my absolute baby. I put so much time and effort into it and I’m so incredibly fucking proud of how it turned out. I really hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have enjoyed writing it! Last night I was looking back on all the places I had written this story in and was getting super emotional about it. 
> 
> Like the one time on top of a North Carolina [mountain](http://68.media.tumblr.com/5defe699c0df0f6672cb1a16affc2d98/tumblr_inline_ou4ug9SniQ1ri31al_500.jpg) ... or on a train to [NYC](http://68.media.tumblr.com/2414fb9bf10bd4779646ef4c8f6395d6/tumblr_inline_ou4uhaaYlo1ri31al_500.jpg) ... or when I was impatiently waiting for my pancakes at a [Cracker Barrel](http://68.media.tumblr.com/1c0bb67c81a59a8254ecc26e50be6902/tumblr_inline_ou4uhsyJh81ri31al_500.jpg) ... or when the late night [front porch](http://68.media.tumblr.com/c8ce047972d0cd166dc3ba3d2536dfde/tumblr_inline_ou4uji40Bd1ri31al_500.jpg) aesthetic was too good to pass up. But, by far, the best moment I had while writing, was when I realized I was casually eating a [hot pocket](http://68.media.tumblr.com/bea732bd87753f991de852134902db9f/tumblr_inline_ou4ukl3LQF1ri31al_500.jpg) while Louis was rimming the fuck out of Harry. I love my life. 
> 
> ANYWAY. 
> 
> Thank you so so so much to everyone who has taken the time to comment. I just want to tell you how much I LOVE you! I went so long without any feedback from the outside world that literally any comment, big or small, makes my whole day so much brighter. There are so many of you that commented on every chapter and I just want to tell you all (again) how much I absolutely appreciate it! YOU’RE MY FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD. 
> 
> Thank you again to Ducky, who (as I mentioned at the very beginning of all this) took the time to proof this entire story for me. She also put up with a lot of complaining (specifically about writing buttplay) from me over the course of the last year. She also takes our trash out more often than I do, which is a HUGE DEAL considering our dumpster is about ten thousand miles away. YOU DA TRUE MVP, QUEEN. DON’T THINK I HAVEN’T NOTICED. 
> 
> If you’ve enjoyed this story, it’d mean the world to me if you could share the Tumblr post! I also love love love love love chatting with you all on Tumblr or Twitter, so don’t be shy! 
> 
> TAKE CARE. STAY HYDRATED. WATER YOUR PLANTS. HAVE YOUR PETS SPAYED OR NEUTERED. LOVE YOURSELF. BE KIND TO ONE ANOTHER. STAY IN SCHOOL.
> 
> [Tumblr Post](http://fabby1d.tumblr.com/post/161854741618/given-a-chance-five-years-after-one-direction)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fabby_1D)


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